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AN  UNCLOSETED  SKELETON.  By  E.  L. 
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HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  COMPANY, 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK. 


ZACHARY   PHIPS 


BY 


EDWIN  LASSETTER  BYNNER 

AUTHOR  OF  "AGNES  SURRIAGE,"  "THE  BEGUM'S  DAUGHTER'' 
"  PENELOPE'S  SUITORS,"  ETC. 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 
Ipress,  Cambridge 

1892 


Copyright,  1892, 
BY  EDWIN  LASSETTER  BYNNER. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Kiverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mast.,  U.  S.  A. 
Klectrotyped  and  Priuted  by  H.  O.  Houghtou  &  Co. 


ZACHARY   PHIPS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

MASTER  TILESTON  sat  making  pens  at  his  desk, 
that  famous  piece  of  furniture  in  whose  capacious 
maw,  according  to  boyish  tradition,  lay  hidden  the 
richest  store  ever  known  of  tops,  marbles,  jack- 
knives,  and  other  toys,  collected  during  a  long  and 
memorable  career.  The  crowning  event  of  the  school 
year  was  close  at  hand,  for  Selectmen's  Day  was  more 
properly  an  event  than  a  mere  arbitrary  division  of 
time.  It  was,  moreover,  although  in  no  strict  sense 
a  crisis,  distinctively  an  ordeal,  inasmuch  as  the  re- 
sults of  the  year's  work  were  then  to  appear.  Nat- 
urally enough,  therefore,  despite  his  mask  of  com- 
posure, Master  Tileston  showed,  by  the  occasional 
twitching  of  an  eyelid  and  the  tapping  of  his  silver- 
buckled  shoe  upon  the  floor,  signs  of  inward  dis- 
turbance. Let  it  not  be  thought  from  this  that  the 
good  man  lacked  confidence  in  himself.  On  the 
contrary,  it  may  be  doubted  if  anybody  ever  had  a 
juster  estimate  of  his  own  powers.  His  present  agi- 
tation was  due  simply  to  the  approach  of  an  unusual 
event  in  a  life  of  absolute  routine.  Besides,  he  knew 
the  best  and  the  worst  of  Selectmen's  Day;  it  was, 

1711-132 


2  ZACTTAEY  P  Til  PS. 

after  all,  an  old  story,  for  he  had  weathered  many  an 
anniversary  of  it  since  the  time  when  he  first  came 
as  Master  Hicks 's  usher  to  join  the  famous  North 
Writing  School  of  Old  Boston. 

After  the  hint  already  let  drop,  it  need  hardly  be 
added  that  Master  Tileston  was  no  longer  a  young 
man.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  his  youth 
and  his  prime  were  misty  bygones,  his  influence  re- 
mained unimpaired.  Whether  this  was  due  to  the 
suggestion  of  energy  still  apparent  in  his  unbowed 
figure,  to  the  look  of  authority  in  his  severe  eyes,  to 
the  expression  of  firmness  in  his  close-shut  lips,  or, 
more  likely  than  all,  to  the  traditions  of  a  half  cen- 
tury of  wholesome  old-time  discipline  handed  down 
from  one  generation  of  unruly  boys  to  another,  cer- 
tain it  is  that  Master  Tileston  was  still  an  object 
of  respect,  not  to  say  terror,  to  his  flock. 

Being  thus  secure  of  his  authority  in  the  main,  he 
showed  none  of  the  small  anxiety  of  weak  men  to 
uphold  it  in  little  points.  He  was  nobly  above 
watching  and  spying,  and  the  like  petty  pedagogic 
tricks.  Trusting  solely  to  rule  and  precept,  he  little 
dreamed  how  much  he  owed  in  the  way  of  influence 
to  the  effect  produced  by  his  own  awe-inspiring  pres- 
ence, nor  again  how  much  that  effect  was  heightened 
by  an  unconscious  conservatism  in  the  matter  of 
dress.  The  truth  is,  if  his  garb  had  been  fashioned 
to  that  very  end,  it  could  not  have  served  better  the 
purpose  of  enhancing  the  grim  majesty  of  his  per- 
son. His  cocked  hat,  his  powdered  wig,  his  long- 
skirted  coat,  his  voluminous  waistcoat,  and  lastly 
his  silver  -  headed  Malacca  stick,  —  still  carefully 


ZACHABY  P II IPS.  3 

preserved  in  the  collection  of  the  Bostonian  Society, 
with  its  queer  joint  at  the  top  suggesting  a  hidden 
Toledo  blade,  —  these  were  the  accessories  of  a  per- 
son not  to  be  lightly  encountered  save  by  the  inno- 
cent and  pure  in  heart. 

Just  now,  however,  the  cocked  hat  is  hanging 
quietly  on  the  wall,  the  Malacca  cane  stands  peace- 
fully in  the  corner,  and  Master  Tileston  is  intent  on 
making  his  pens.  Probably  there  never  lived  upon 
earth  one  who  could  more  deftly  and  speedily  con- 
vert a  goose-quill  into  a  medium  for  formulating 
thought.  With  swift,  clean  stroke  he  made  the  first 
transverse  cut,  with  nicest  judgment  slit  and  blunted 
the  nib;  and  having  with  a  critical  air  tried  each 
transformed  feather  on  his  thumbnail,  he  threw  it 
upon  the  table  before  him.  When  the  last  pen  was 
finished  he  swept  away  the  litter,  drew  towards  him 
a  pile  of  copybooks,  and  having  tested  upon  a  piece 
of  waste  paper  the  stroke  of  his  own  especial  quill, 
he  canted  his  head  the  least  bit  to  one  side,  com- 
pressed his  lips,  and  with  the  confident  air  of  one 
supereminent  in  his  craft  proceeded  to  write  at  the 
head  of  the  final  page  in  each  book,  in  bold,  clear 
script,  the  last  copy  of  the  year,  — 

HONOR  AND  SHAME  FROM  NO  CONDITION  RISE. 

Not  the  least  surprising  thing  about  Master  Tile- 
ston was  the  fact  that  he  managed  to  write  at  all ; 
for  having  when  a  child  fallen  into  the  fire,  the 
flames  had  so  maimed  and  distorted  his  right  hand 
that  it  seemed  little  better  than  a  stump.  None  the 
less  it  was,  as  all  agreed,  his  most  characteristic  mem- 


4  ZACIIARY  mips. 

ber,  at  once  an  object  of  ridicule  and  of  respectful 
regard;  for,  as  described  in  after  years  by  a  distin- 
guished pupil  of  the  old  pedagogue,  a  stroke  from 
those  crumpled  fingers  was  like  nothing  so  much  as  a 
blow  from  the  beak  of  an  albatross.  For  the  rest  it 
needed  only  to  adjust  any  required  utensil  between 
the  distorted  thumb  and  fingers,  and  directly  the 
old  master  showed  himself  capable  of  wielding  it, 
whether  quill,  penknife,  or  rattan,  with  memorable 
effect. 

Ranged  before  Master  Tileston  on  that  warm 
summer  morning,  away  back  in  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  were  thirty  or  forty  boys  of  ages  varying 
from  six  to  fourteen  years.  They  sat  upon  wooden 
benches  without  backs,  and  had  before  them  long 
forms,  on  which  they  lolled  and  sprawled  at  their 
writing  or  ciphering. 

While  Master  Tileston  prepared  the  copybooks, 
Usher  Carter  at  the  back  of  the  room  was  practicing 
a  class  in  reading  the  Beatitudes,  for  at  a  day  still 
long  before  the  era  of  reading-books,  the  Bible  usu- 
ally furnished  the  text  for  exercises  of  that  kind. 
The  long  forenoon  was  nearly  spent,  when,  wearied 
by  the  silence  and  restraint  and  perhaps  encouraged 
by  the  absorbed  air  of  their  instructor,  certain  rest- 
less boys  began  to  hitch  about  on  their  benches, 
throw  paper-balls,  slyly  kick  their  neighbors,  and 
in  divers  other  ways  seek  relief  for  their  long-pent 
spirits. 

Master  Tileston  seemed  too  much  engrossed  in 
his  task  to  note  these  skirmishes.  Perhaps  he  was 
really  engrossed,  perhaps  he  had  schooled  himself  to 


ZACIIARY  1'Ilirx.  5 

a  wise  insensibility  to  the  small  disturbances  of  the 
schoolroom.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  roguish  offenders, 
emboldened  by  success,  presently  proceeded  to  more 
flagrant  breaches  of  decorum.  Still  Master  Tile- 
ston  sat,  with  attention,  as  it  seemed,  fixed  exclusively 
upon  his  copy,  as  he  firmly  rounded  the  tails  of  his 
letters,  or  opened  with  careful  precision  the  loops  of 
his  f's,his  h's  and  his  1's. 

At  last  one  audacious  third-bencher  succeeded  in 
fastening  a  rude  cartoon  to  the  coat-tail  of  Usher 
Carter,  as  that  unsuspecting  young  man  passed  up 
the  aisle.  This  was  a  test  quite  too  severe  for  any 
boy's  gravity.  A  murmur  of  suppressed  tittering 
swelled  in  the  small  space  of  a  minute  to  an  irre- 
pressible outburst  of  laughter,  as  Usher  Carter, 
returning  down  the  aisle,  innocently  flaunted  the 
grotesque  placard  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  school. 

Directly  Master  Tileston  awoke  to  the  occasion. 

Deliberately  putting  down  his  quill,  he  came  forth 
in  front  of  his  desk,  stamped  on  the  floor,  and  in  a 
voice  of  thunder  cried,  — 

"Silence!" 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  broken  by  spasmodic 
gigglings  from  one  or  two  boys  whose  sense  of  humor 
overrode  all  fear  of  consequences. 

"A  body 'd  think  Bedlam  had  broke  loose  here. 
What  is  it?  — eh?  What's  the  matter,  I  say? 
You,  sir,  what  are  you  laughing  at?  " 

"That!  that  !  "  pointing  at  Usher  Carter's  back. 

"Who  did  it?"  demanded  the  master  sharply,  as 
the  giggling  broke  out  afresh.  "Was  that  you, 
AbelHubbard?" 


6  ZACI1ARY  PII1PS. 

A  boy  sitting  at  the  end  of  the  bench  hesitated 
and  changed  color. 

"Come  here,  sir!  Come  here  to  me!"  continued 
Master  Tileston,  with  a  significant  movement  to- 
wards his  desk. 

Hubbard  arose,  and  went  forward  with  faltering 
step.  The  tittering  had  quite  ceased  now.  A  pin 
might  have  been  heard  to  drop  in  the  room.  Mean- 
while Master  Tileston  removed  his  glasses,  settled 
his  wig  upon  his  head,  took  a  stout  rattan  from  his 
desk,  and,  with  a  truly  terrible  deliberation,  adjusted 
it  in  his  maimed  hand.  Then  pausing,  to  assure 
himself  by  a  glance  of  the  attention  of  the  school, 
he  seized  the  culprit  by  the  collar  and  plied  the  rod 
upon  his  back  and  shoulders  until  he  roared  again. 

"There,  sir,"  said  the  venerable  disciplinarian, 
stopping  to  catch  breath,  "now,  sir,  try  your  hand 
at  making  another  picture." 

"I  —  I  d-didn't  make  it,"  whimpered  the  boy, 
rubbing  his  smarting  back.  "I  —  I  only  pinned  it 
on." 

"Who  did  make  it,  then?" 

The  boy  was  silent. 

"Who  did  make  it?  I  say,"  repeated  the  master, 
brandishing  the  rattan. 

"S-Seth  Mather." 

"Oh,  so  Seth  made  it?  "  directing  his  eyes  towards 
a  stout  boy  on  the  second  bench.  "Seth,  you  may 
come  here,  sir." 

The  dismayed  artist  kept  his  seat. 

"If  I  have  to  come  after  you,  you  '11  remember 
it!" 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  1 

Knowing,  perhaps,  from  experience  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  threat,  Seth  stumbled  up  to  the  desk. 

"So  you  made  that  picture,  did  you?" 

"I  —  I  did  n't  mean  to. " 

"Didn't  mean  to,  eh? "repeated  Master Tileston, 
giving  him  a  sudden  cuff  with  the  crumpled  hand 
which  made  him  reel.  "You  meant  to  make  a  map, 
I  suppose  !  You  meant  to  do  a  sum  in  vulgar  frac- 
tions," went  on  the  teacher,  emphasizing  each  with- 
ering sarcasm  with  a  fresh  blow.  "Now,  go  to  your 
seat,  sir !  Go  to  your  seats,  both  of  you  !  Mr.  Car- 
ter, let  your  class  attend  to  me!  I  've  got  a  word 
to  say  to  this  school." 

Usher  Carter,  pausing  in  his  exercise,  gave  atten- 
tion at  this  unusual  summons.  Master  Tileston  put 
on  his  glasses  and  cleared  his  throat. 

"You  all  know,"  he  began,  with  memorable  em- 
phasis, "that  it  is  Selectmen's  Day  to-morrow; 
that  the  officers  of  the  town  and  other  visitors  are 
coming  here  to  see  what  kind  of  a  school  I  keep. 
Now,  they  won't  find  you  've  1'arned  a  great  deal, 
but  they  will  find  that  you  can  keep  order,  or  I  '11 
know  the  reason  why.  There  have  been  too  many 
monkey-shines  going  on  here  lately,  and  it 's  got  to 
be  stopped,  I  tell  you  now  an'  here!  " 

The  speaker  stamped  his  foot  and  raised  his  stump 
in  solemn  warning  as  he  concluded :  — 

"  Mark  my  words,  now !  any  boy  caught  whisper- 
ing or  playing,  from  this  time  until  the  close  of 
school  to-morrow,  will  get  a  flogging  he  '11  remem- 
ber to  the  end  of  his  days." 

This   speech,   preceded  by  the   sharp   discipline 


8  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

above  described,  produced  an  immediate  effect.  The 
boys,  in  sobered  mood,  addressed  themselves  again 
to  their  studies.  Usher  Carter  proceeded  with  his 
recitation,  while  Master  Tileston,  with  an  air  of  sat- 
isfaction, went  back  to  his  seat. 

Adjusting  his  ruffles,  he  drew  forth  a  japanned 
snuff-box,  tapped  it  deliberately,  and,  having  care- 
fully packed  each  expectant  nostril  with  the  pun- 
gent dust,  calmly  proceeded  with  his  work  as  if  in 
entire  forgetfulness  of  the  little  episode  which  had 
just  taken  place. 

But,  as  it  proved,  the  morning  was  not  to  pass 
without  other  experiences.  On  the  very  first  row 
of  benches,  and  directly  before  the 'master's  desk, 
sat  Zachary  Phips,  son  of  Obadiah  Phips,  the  well- 
known  maltster  of  the  North  End.  Zachary,  who, 
judging  by  his  size,  seemed  about  eight  years  of 
age,  was  otherwise  a  gawky,  ungainly -looking  child. 
His  hair  was  long  and  none  too  well  combed,  his 
face  might  have  been  cleaner,  and  his  hands  were 
downright  grimy.  He  was  dressed  in  a  pair  of 
homespun  breeches,  big,  clumsy  shoes,  and  a  long- 
sleeved  apron  of  coarse  blue  cotton,  familiarly  known 
as  a  "swingle-toe." 

Zach  had  been  an  attentive  witness  of  the  disci- 
pline above  described,  and,  naturally  impressed  with 
Master  Tileston 's  warning,  he  turned  with  renewed 
attention  to  his  lessons. 

As  he  sat  with  elbows  leaned  upon  the  whittled 
and  ink-splashed  form  before  him,  conning  his  Dil- 
worth's  Speller,  which,  save  a  battered  copy  of  the 
Psalter,  was  his  only  schoolbook,  a  voice  sounded 
in  his  ear:  — 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  9 

"Zach!     Zach!" 

"Eh?" 

"Lend  me  your  blow-rag!  " 

"Ain't  got  any." 

"  Ho — o — o ! ' '  incredulously. 

"Marm  Dinely  won't  gimme  another,  'cause  I 
lost  that  one  last  week  at  Winnisimmet." 

"I  shall  take  your  apron  then." 

"Let  go!" 

"I  got  to  wipe  my  nose!  " 

"Stop,  I  say.     Johnny  Crump  is  lookin' !  " 

"Phips,  are  you  whispering?  " 

This  question,  asked  in  a  certain  repressed  rau- 
cous tone  well  known  to  every  experienced  ear  in 
the  school,  struck  a  silence  through  the  room.  The 
boy  who  was  drawling  through  the  Beatitudes  stopped 
mid-phrase  in  "Blessed  are  the  merciful."  All  felt 
that  a  crisis  was  at  hand. 

"Come  here  to  me,  sir!  " 

The  tone  was  ominous.  With  natural  reluctance, 
the  small  culprit  arose  and  went  shuffling  forward, 
his  grimy  hands  nervously  fumbling  with  his  long 
apron. 

"Stand  there!  Now,  sir,  were  you  whispering? 
I  say." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Eh?" 

"Yeah,  I  was,"  at  last  faltered  the  offender, 
twisting  his  apron  up  into  knots  the  while,  and 
watching  every  movement  of  his  stern  judge  with 
anxious  interest. 

"What  were  you  whispering  about?"  continued 


10  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

the  master  with  a  calmness  more  terrible  than  any 
violence. 

"I  — I  don't  know  — I  forget." 

"Repeat  to  me  the  very  words  you  said!  " 

There  was  a  pause ;  then,  whether  from  a  native 
scorn  of  prevarication,  whether  from  a  shrewd  per- 
ception of  the  uselessness  of  any  extenuating  plea, 
Zach  clinched  his  hands,  straightened  his  sturdy 
little  figure,  and  stammered,  — 

"I  — I  only  said" — 

"Goon,  sir!" 

"Johnny  Crump  is  lookin'  !  " 

Nettled  by  this  opprobrious  nickname  founded 
upon  his  deformity,  which  generations  of  boys  had 
handed  down  to  their  successors  in  the  school,  and 
furthermore  incensed  at  this  speedy  defiance  of  his 
late  warning,  Master  Tileston  turned  perceptibly 
pale  as  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  came  out  before 
the  desk. 

"Oh,  you  only  said  'Johnny  Crump  is  lookin' ; ' 
that  was  all  you  said?"  he  remarked,  as  with  a 
blood-curdling  air  of  preparation,  he  slowly  turned 
back  his  ruffles.  "That  was  all,  eh?  Well,  Johnny 
Crump  was  looking,  as  you  will  find  to  your  cost!  " 

The  blows  dealt  by  the  outraged  master  were  so 
merciless  that  after  a  whole  minute's  endurance  the 
sufferer,  with  a  sudden  wrench,  broke  from  his  hold, 
and,  whirling  about  on  the  amazed  pedagogue, 
cried,  — 

"You  '11  never  lick  me  again,  old  Johnny  Crump, 
Crumpity  Crump! " 

Whereupon,  before  the  dumfounded  master  could 


ZACIIARY  PIIIPS.  11 

interfere,  he  darted  from  the  room,  shutting  the 
door  behind  him  with  a  resounding  slam. 

Once  out  of  doors,  Zach's  first  thought  was  to 
avoid  pursuit.  He  lost  no  time  in  deliberation,  but 
darting  across  North  Bennett  Street,  on  which  the 
school  stood,  he  scaled  a  fence,  and  making  his  way 
by  short  cuts,  well  known  to  him,  through  the  inter- 
vening gardens,  he  came  out  into  Prince  Street,  and 
thence  took  a  bee  line  to  Dock  Square,  where,  wan- 
dering into  the  stable  yard  of  the  old  Brasier  Inn, 
he  mingled  with  the  crowd  of  teamsters,  hostlers, 
and  hangers-on,  and  for  the  first  time  stopped  to 
take  breath  and  counsel. 

While  he  stood  looking  about,  thinking  where  to 
go  and  what  to  do  next,  the  ringing  of  the  noontide 
bell  in  a  steeple  hard  by  reminded  him  that  it  was 
dinner-time,  while  certain  savory  odors  from  the  inn 
kitchen  awoke  in  him  cravings  natural  to  one  who 
had  not  broken  his  fast  since  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning. 

The  voice  of  this  inward  monitor  became  more 
imperative  as  the  short  noon-hour  slipped  away. 
He  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  down  the  yard  so 
that  he  might  not  see  the  greedy  men  within  at  their 
meal.  There,  seated  on  an  old  cart-wheel,  he  thought 
of  the  family  at  home  gathered  about  the  humble 
board  in  Salutation  Alley,  and  of  the  wondering 
comments  of  his  father  and  his  step-mother  as  to  his 
absence.  Yet  dared  he  not  go  home,  lest  he  might 
encounter  Master  Tilestoii,  or  some  of  his  emissa- 
ries come  to  give  a  report  of  his  revolt. 

Meantime  the  precious  moments  were  fast  slipping 


12  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

away.  He  walked  about  the  stable  yard  aimlessly. 
He  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  anything.  lie 
had- no  money  to  get  a  dinner  at  the  inn.  He  had 
no  friend  to  whom  he  dared  appeal.  The  prospect 
of  another  six-hour  fast  seemed,  from  the  boy's 
point  of  view,  appalling.  In  the  midst  of  his  doubt- 
ing and  hesitation,  the  guests  came  filing  out  of  the 
old  inn  with  unctuous  lips  and  comfortable  looks 
of  satiety,  bandying  stupid  jokes  and  picking  flieir 
teeth  with  straws. 

Reflecting  that,  by  this  time,  the  danger  of  meet- 
ing Master  Tileston  was  lessened  by  the  approach 
of  the  hour  for  the  afternoon  session,  he  skirted 
the  dock,  and  going  a  roundabout  way,  presently 
arrived  in  the  rear  of  his  father's  garden,  which 
stretched  back  from  Salutation  Alley  to  Battery 
Street. 

There,  skulking  behind  the  lilac  bushes  for  an 
observation,  he  at  last  crept  up  to  the  back  door, 
and  with  an  air  of  innocence,  very  clumsily  assumed, 
entered  the  house. 

He  halted  in  the  little  passageway,  and  looked 
furtively  towards  the  half-opened  kitchen  door. 
The  smell  of  boiled  cabbage  pervading  the  premises 
made  his  mouth  water,  and  thus  rebellious  appetite 
pricked  on  his  flagging  resolution. 

Calling  up  a  look  of  determination,  he  at  last  en- 
tered the  room.  On  the  hearthstone,  otherwise  lit- 
tered with  pots  and  pans,  stood  his  father,  who  had 
just  taken  a  live  coal  from  the  embers  to  light  his 
pipe ;  his  step-mother,  with  bustling  movement,  was 
clearing  the  table.  From  the  look  which  the  two 


ZACHARY  PH1PS.  13 

turned  upon  the  culprit  as  he  entered,  it  was  clear 
that  he  had  been  the  subject  of  their  conversation. 

Mrs.  Phips,  born  Rebecca  Dinely,  was  a  middle- 
aged  woman,  with  an  air  of  energy  befitting  one  who 
did  her  own  housework  without  the  aid  of  slave  or 
servant. 

Constant  drudgery  left  her  small  leisure  for  the 
cultivation  of  other  faculties  than  those  called  into 
exercise  by  her  narrow  round  of  duties,  a  fact  not 
to  be  lost  sight  of  in  any  summary  of  her  faults  and 
merits  as  an  individual.  To  care  for  her  household, 
do  her  duty  as  a  neighbor,  and  maintain  her  good 
and  regular  standing  as  a  member  of  the  church 
hard  by  in  Methodist  Alley,  this  was  her  aim  in  life, 
and  who  shall  say  it  was  not  a  worthy  and  adequate 
one  judged  from  any  standpoint?  If  in  the  govern- 
ment of  her  step-children  she  stretched  certain  se- 
vere old  maxims  as  far  as  they  could  well  go,  it  was 
all  done,  be  sure,  under  the  guidance  of  an  active 
regulating  conscience,  and  Mrs.  Rebecca  would  have 
answered  a  call  to  judgment  at  any  moment  with  as 
little  misgiving  as  any  misguided  zealot  who  ever 
died  at  martyr's  stake. 

"  So ! "  she  cried,  at  sight  of  Zach  halting  in  the 
doorway,  "you've  come  home,  runaway!  What 
d'  ye  want  here  ?  We  harbor  no  truants  here !  " 

Zach,  seeing  that  Master  Tileston  had  been  be- 
forehand with  him,  vouchsafed  no  explanation. 

"A  pretty  piece  of  business,"  went  on  Mistress 
Becky,  rattling  her  dishes,  "running  away!  What 
d'  ye  come  here  for,  I  say?" 

"I  want  my  dinner!  "  said  Zach. 


14  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"Ye  won't  git  any  dinner  here,  I  can  tell  ye  that. 
I  ain't  got  any  dinner  for  runaways!  " 

Gathering  himself  for  a  defiant  answer,  the  offen- 
der caught  his  father's  eye.  The  worthy  maltster 
tipped  his  son  a  solemn  wink.  But  whether  misun- 
derstanding this  signal,  or  disdaining  any  subterfuge, 
the  wrathful  boy  persisted  in  a  rebellious  tone :  — 

"I  'm  hungry,  an'  I  want  sun  thin'  to  eat." 

"We  don't  keep  vittles  here  for  runaways,  I  tell 

ye." 

"I  ain't  a  runaway,"  answered  Zach  sullenly. 

"What  ye  doin'  here,  then,  this  time  o'  day? 
What  ye  got  to  say  for  yerself  ?  " 

Zach  made  no  answer,  but  looked  wistfully  to- 
wards the  pantry. 

"Ye  goin'  to  answer  me  when  I  speak,  or  not?" 
continued  his  step-mother,  seizing  him  by  the  collar 
and  giving  him  a  vigorous  shake. 

"Let  go!  Let  go  o'  me,  old  Marm  Dinely!" 
shouted  the  incensed  boy. 

"I  '11  let  go  o'  ye  when  I  git  through,  and  not 
afore!  "  retorted  the  conscientious  Becky,  as  by  turns 
she  cuffed  and  shook  her  struggling  victim. 

"Father!  father!"  shouted  Zach,  turning  again 
for  succor  to  his  natural  parent. 

The  cautious  Obadiah  looked  ill  at  ease.  A  flush 
passed  over  his  irresolute  face.  He  cleared  his 
throat,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  feeble  protestation,  — 

"I  guess  ye  've  gin  him  enough,  Becky." 

"Who  asked  you  to  guess  any  thin'  about  it?  I 
know  when  1  've  gin  him  enough  'thout  any  advice 
from  you." 


ZACHAEY  PI1IP8.  15 

"Father!  stop  her,  father!  "  appealed  Zach  again. 

"I  '11  father  ye  !  "  cried  Mistress  Becky,  dragging 
her  prisoner  towards  the  door;  "you  come  along  o' 
me !  If  yer  father  had  the  spunk  of  a  mouse,  he  'd 
take  ye  back  to  school  himself;  but  if  he  don't,  I 
will!" 

"  Stop  !  Stop  !  Leave  me  alone !  I  won't  go !  " 
roared  the  culprit,  holding  back  with  might  and 
main. 

"Master  Tileston  '11  see  to  your  case,"  continued 
the  energetic  step -mother,  as,  having  propelled  her 
charge  into  the  yard,  she  turned  to  shut  the  door. 
"I  don't  b'lieve  you  '11  want  to  run  away  agin  in  a 
hurry  !  " 

Seizing  the  opportunity  when  his  captor  was  oc- 
cupied with  the  latch,  Zach  broke  from  her  hold  and 
darted  away.  Turning  when  at  a  safe  distance,  he 
picked  up  a  stone,  and,  with  a  voice  hoarse  from 
rage  and  hate,  cried,  as  he  flung  it  at  the  pursuing 
matron,  — 

"Bah!  bah!  bah!  old  Marm  Dinely,  you  go  to 
the  devil!" 

Having  vented  his  spite  in  this  shocking  manner, 
he  ran  away  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 
Choking  with  anger,  sobbing  with  grief,  he  darted 
in  and  out  the  neighboring  streets  until,  having 
baffled  pursuit,  he  betook  himself  to  a  favorite 
haunt  upon  Scarlett's  Wharf,  where,  sitting  down 
on  a  water-soaked  log,  he  gave  way  to  his  feelings 
in  a  long  and  violent  fit  of  weeping. 

Relieved  by  this  outburst,  he  gradually  resumed 
his  self-control.  Drying  his  eyes,  he  looked  about 


16  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

and  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  bustling  scene. 
A  coasting  vessel  was  being  loaded  for  sea. 
'Longshoremen,  stevedores,  and  sailors  were  hurry- 
ing to  and  fro,  rolling  casks,  carrying  bags  and  sacks, 
with  the  usual  accompaniment  of  shouting  and  curs- 
ing. Insensibly  Zach  grew  interested;  he  made  his 
way  to  the  edge  of  the  dock  and  looked  down  upon 
the  littered  deck.  Directly  he  heard  himself  hailed ; 
it  was  a  burly  sailor,  who  cried,  — 

"Say,  Bub,  run  up  to  the  Ship  Tavern  an'  git 
me  some  'baccy,  ther  's  a  hearty !  " 

Delighted  to  be  of  service  to  any  one,  Zach  picked 
up  the  coin  which  was  flung  at  him,  and  darted  off 
to  execute  the  commission. 

When  he  returned,  the  sailor  had  disappeared. 
Zach  walked  over  the  gang-plank  to  the  vessel  to 
find  him.  Having  delivered  the  tobacco  he  loitered 
to  look  about.  In  the  hurry  of  the  moment  nobody 
heeded  him.  A  thought  entered  his  head.  Watch- 
ing his  chance,  he  worked  his  way  forward,  went 
below,  and  hid  himself  in  the  forecastle,  where, 
worn  out  with  fatigue  and  the  unusual  excitement 
of  the  day,  he  presently  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER   II. 

ZACH  was  awakened  by  a^shake  of  the  arm  and  a 
gruff  voice  sounding  in  his  ear.  He  started  up  be- 
wildered. Two  or  three  rough-looking  men  stood 
about  his  makeshift  couch.  The  strange  place,  the 
bearded  faces,  the  dim  light,  afforded  the  fit  setting 
for  a  nightmare.  Vainly,  however,  he  strove  to 
connect  Master  Tileston,  his  step-mother,  his  es- 
cape, of  which  he  had  just  been  dreaming,  with  this 
odd,  cramped  little  place,  this  dizzying  motion,  and 
these  curious,  unfriendly  eyes  bent  upon  him. 

"Wot  ye  doin'  of  here?"  demanded  the  man  who 
held  Zach  by  the  arm. 

"Stealin'  ago." 

"Cuttin'  stick." 

"Givin'  leg  bail." 

The  suggestions  poured  in  from  the  bystanders, 
not  inexperienced  in  cases  of  the  sort. 

"Haul  him  up  on  deck!  Sharky '11  settle  his 
case,"  counseled  a  one-eyed  tar. 

"An'  make  short  work  of  it,  too!  "  added  a  neigh- 
bor, who  had  an  anchor  tattooed  on  his  low  forehead. 

"He  '11  h'ist  him  overboard,  an'  sarve  him  right," 
went  on  the  One-eyed. 

"Ay,  with  a  brick  in  his  pocket  for  ballast," 
grunted  Zach's  captor. 

"Huh!  the  brick  ain't  baked  yet  'ud  sink  Mm; 


18  Z A CHARY  P1IIPS. 

water  can't  drown  these  yer  w'arf  rats,"  put  in  the 
Tattooed. 

Lying  there  in  the  midst  of  the  group  as  help- 
less as  a  stray  kid  in  a  den  of  wolves,  Zach  was  not 
composed  enough  to  suspect  that  their  bark  might 
be  worse  than  their  bite.  He  took  all  their  rough 
chaff  in  earnest.  Not  being  able  to  speak  for  lumps 
in  his  throat,  he  dropped  his  eyes  and  sulked. 

"Come,  drag  him  out  I  "  went  on  the  last  speaker, 
detecting  Zach's  dismay. 

"Hold  hard!  Wot  ye  got  there?"  broke  in  a 
newcomer,  peeping  over  the  shoulders  of  his  mess- 
mates. 

"Move  up,  lubbers,    an'  give  Sandy  a  squint!  " 

"Eh?  Hanged  if  he  ain't  the  brat  fetched  me 
the  'baccy;  d'  ye  'member  me,  young  un?  " 

Zach  nodded  eagerly. 

"Oh,  stow  him  away!  Give  him  a  chance; 
where  's  the  harm  in  him?"  pleaded  Sandy. 

"Sharky  's  sure  to  nose  him  out  sooner  or  later." 

"An'  then  't  '11  go  wuss  with  him." 

"An'  wuss  with  us." 

"'N'  the  deuce  to  pay  all  round,"  answered  the 
others  in  justification. 

"Ay,  ay.  Le's  take  him  along  up,"  said  the 
One-eyed,  anxious  not  to  lose  a  chance  of  sport. 
"Everythin'  's  taut.  Sharky 's  had  his  grog,  'n' 
he  's  in  good  feather." 

"Right!" 

"Haulaway!  " 

"Ay,  ay!" 

This  being  the  general  verdict,  Zach  was  taken 


ZACUARY  r HIPS.  19 

on  deck  and  led  aft  before  the  mate,  otherwise 
known  as  Sharky,  a  burly  man,  whose  big  jaw 
and  protruding  teeth  amply  justified  the  sobriquet. 

"  Whar  'd  ye  git  him  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  Zach 
over  quizzically. 

"Asleep  in  the  fo'cas'le." 

"How  come  ye  down  thar  ?" 

"I  want  to  be  a  sailor,"  blurted  out  Zach,  driven 
to  a  corner. 

"Humph!  "  grunted  the  mate,  by  no  means  pro- 
pitiated. "Wot 's  yer  name?  " 

"Zach." 

"Whard'  ye  hail  from?" 

"Salutation  Alley." 

"Boston  Town?" 

"Yeah." 

"Folks  live  thar?" 

"Yeah." 

"Wot  'd  ye  run  away  for?  " 

"The  schoolmaster  licked  me  "  — 

A  guffaw  from  the  listening  sailors  interrupted 
the  speaker. 

—  "'N'  she  wouldn't  gimme  anythin'  to  eat,"  he 
concluded,  with  a  resentful  glance  at  them. 

"Who'ssAe?" 

"  Marm  Dinely ;  she  married  my  old  man,  but  she 
ain't  my  mother." 

"A  hawk  in  the  hen-roost,  eh?"  with  a  chuckle. 
"So  the  schoolmaster  licked  ye?  Sarved  ye  right, 
too;  how's  he  goin'  to  larn  ye  anythin  'thout 
whalin'  ?  He  '11  give  ye  wuss  'n'  that  when  he  gits 
ye  back." 


20  ZACIIAUY  PHI  PS. 

"I  don't  want  to  go  back.     I  want  to  stay  here." 

"Ain't  no  room  here  for  brats,"  answered  the 
mate  definitively,  as  he  cut  a  fresh  quid  of  tobacco. 

"This  'ere  kind  grows  like  a  weed,  sir,"  put  in 
Sandy,  "if  ye  'd  have  patience  to  hold  on  a  bit." 

"I  ain't  in  the  wet-nuss  business,"  growled  the 
mate.  "Send  him  back  on  the  next  coastin' 
smack! " 

"I  won't  go  back!"  shouted  Zach  desperately. 
"I  want  to  be  a  sailor!  " 

"'A  sailor'!"  repeated  Sharky  contemptuously, 
spattering  Zach's  feet  with  a  shower  of  tobacco- 
juice.  "I  can't  make  a  sailor  out  o'  a  swab  like  you 
no  more  'n  I  can  make  a  whistle  out  o'  a  pig's  tail. 
Take  him  along!  "  he  concluded,  in  an  undertone,  to 
the  sailors. 

But  Zach's  wrathful  look  as  he  was  dragged  away 
appealed  in  some  way  to  Sharky's  sense  of  humor, 
for  as  if  struck  by  a  sudden  thought  he  called  out: 

"  Hold  on,  there !  Bring  him  back.  Look  here, 
young  un,  you  know  all  about  a  ship  now,  I  reckon, 
eh?" 

"I  know  a  good  deal,"  said  Zach  stoutly. 

"Can  ye  shin  up  a  mast?  " 

"I  gu-guess  so." 

"Go  aloft,  then,  an'  overhaul  them  throat  hal- 
yards !  "  said  the  mate,  with  a  mischievous  wink  at 
the  men  standing  near. 

Without  hesitation  Zach  made  the  attempt. 
Grasping  the  shrouds  as  he  had  often  seen  the 
sailors  do,  he  made  fair  enough  headway  until 
he  reached  the  masthead.  Here,  pausing  to  take 


ZACHAEY  rillPti.  21 

breath,  unhappily  he  cast  a  look  downward  towards 
the  deck.  Directly  his  head  began  to  feel  queer; 
he  looked  upward  doubtfully  and  hesitated,  but,  en- 
couraged by  a  murmur  of  applause  from  those  below, 
he  kept  on.  By  and  by  a  lurch  of  the  vessel  set  the 
mast  swaying;  his  giddiness  increased;  he  paused, 
hesitated,  and  again  looked  down. 

A  scoffing  laugh  from  the  mate  and  a  confused  cry 
from  the  sailors  nerved  him  to  another  desperate 
effort.  Seizing  the  stay  with  trembling  fingers,  he 
shut  his  eyes,  clinched  his  teeth,  and  made  a  last 
determined  attempt  to  go  on.  In  vain;  his  boyish 
will  availed  nothing  against  the  whirring  dizziness, 
the  disabling  nausea.  He  wavered  a  moment, 
loosed  his  hold,  and  fell.  Happily  the  topping  lift, 
throwing  him  into  the  belly  of  the  sail,  broke  his 
fall.  As  it  was,  he  struck  the  deck  with  force 
enough  to  render  him  insensible. 

There  was  a  murmur  of  sympathy  and  indignation 
among  the  sailors,  quickly  silenced  by  the  mate,  who, 
finding  upon  examination  that  a  flutter  of  life  was 
left,  promptly  washed  his  hands  of  any  further  re- 
sponsibility. 

"Take  him  below,  an'  keep  the  little  fool  out 
from  under  my  feet.  I  won't  have  no  orphan  asy- 
lum round  here." 

In  obedience  to  orders,  Sandy  and  another  took 
up  the  senseless  Zach  and  carried  him  below.  There 
being  no  surgeon  aboard,  at  the  cook's  suggestion 
they  stripped  off  his  clothes  and  rubbed  him  vigor- 
ously with  New  England  rum,  ending  by  pouring  a 
good  stiff  dose  of  it  down  his  throat. 


22  ZACUARY  PHIPS. 

Under  this  heroic  treatment  Zach  presently  re- 
vived, and  returned  to  a  consciousness  of  much  phy- 
sical pain  and  mental  misery. 

Having,  in  their  rough  fashion,  done  what  they 
could  for  him,  the  two  sailors  went  away,  leaving 
poor  Zach  moaning  in  his  bunk.  The  cook  from 
time  to  time  thrust  in  his  black  head  with  a  look  of 
inquiry,  as  if  to  see  whether  he  were  alive  or  dead; 
and  presently,  more  by  way  of  experiment  than  be- 
nevolence, brought  in  a  bowl  of  hot  broth.  This, 
acting  upon  the  fasting  and  exhausted  patient  as  a 
sedative,  threw  him  into  a  deep  sleep,  which  lasted 
the  whole  night. 

Early  in  the  morning  Zach  awoke.  It  cost  him 
several  minutes  of  hard  thinking  to  account  for  his 
surroundings,  and  realize  his  situation.  Thereupon, 
finding  his  head  clear  and  his  nausea  gone,  he 
thought  himself  quite  well.  When  he  tried  to  move, 
however,  he  discovered  his  mistake.  There  was 
something  very  odd  and  mysterious  the  matter.  He 
found  himself  inextricably  mixed  up  with  a  lot  of 
sore  and  aching  bones,  which  seemed  not  to  belong 
to  him. 

As  getting  up  was  out  of  the  question,  he  could 
only  lie  and  listen  to  the  strange  noises,  and  wonder 
what  they  meant ;  wonder  how  far  the  ship  was  on 
her  way ;  wonder  what  time  of  day  or  night  it  was, 
for  the  glimmering  light  in  the  forecastle  afforded 
little  guide.  It  was  dark  when  the  crew  turned  in 
and  dark  when  they  got  up ;  it  seemed  always  dark 
there.  The  cook  brought  food  at  irregular  hours, 
as  suited  his  convenience;  but,  for  the  rest,  was 


ZACHABY  PIIIPS.  23 

peevish  and  would  answer  no  questions.  Thus  day 
and  night  were  much  the  same  to  Zach.  He  took, 
perforce,  no  note  of  time,  save  of  its  dreary,  da.teless 
lapse.  Again  and  again  he  groaned  aloud  from 
pure  weariness,  yet  nobody  heeded  him. 

As  a  veritable  relief  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  there 
arose  one  day  or  one  night  a  commotion  on  deck ;  a 
rushing  about  of  heavy  feet,  a  rattling  of  cordage,  a 
flapping  of  sails,  mingled  with  excited  cries.  Very 
soon  the  vessel  began  to  pitch  and  toss  in  a  violent 
way.  Up,  up,  up,  she  swept,  until,  to  Zach's  excited 
fancy,  they  touched  the  clouds;  then,  poising  one 
breathless  minute  on  the  zenith's  point,  they  went 
plunging  down,  down,  down,  as  it  seemed,  to  the 
oozy  bottom  of  the  sea.  Through  it  all  resounded 
the  hoarse  voice  of  the  captain  shouting  orders  to  the 
crew.  For  years  the  odd  words  were  fixed  in  the 
hearer's  memory,  and  rang  in  his  ears  like  a  song's 
refrain. 

"All  hands  ahoy!  Lower  away  the  halyards! 
Haul  in  the  sheets!  Heave-o-yo-o !  Take  in  the 
spanker !  Brail  up !  Man  the  clew-garnets !  Ease 
away  the  sheet!  Hand  the  mainsail!  Lay  aloft! 
Set  the  spencer!  Haul  aft  the  sheet!  Heave- 
o-yo-o!  "  and  the  like  meaningless  jargon. 

The  gale  lasted  unnumbered  hours;  to  Zach  it 
seemed  days.  Thus  tossed  about,  he  once  more  fell 
a  prey  to  nausea.  By  turns  he  slept,  but  these 
fragmentary  naps  seemed  only  to  add  to  his  bewil- 
derment and  misery.  Gradually  he  awoke  to  a 
realizing  sense  that  the  sea  had  subsided,  that  the 
turmoil  had  ceased,  and  that  the  vessel  was  again 
gliding  smoothly  through  the  water. 


24  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

Thereupon  ho  began  again  to  take  note  of  his  own 
condition.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  deserted 
and  forgotten  by  all  the  world.  In  his  bitterness 
he  thought  regretfully  of  his  old  life  in  Salutation 
Alley,  with  all  its  drawbacks. 

His  musings  were  interrupted  by  a  gruff  voice  at 
his  side. 

"Hello,  shipmate!  how  goes  it?" 

He  looked  up  quickly  and  recognized  Sandy.  He 
tried  to  speak,  but  instead  of  words  there  came  a 
flood  of  tears. 

"How  now,  young  un!  what 's  up?  " 

It  was  of  no  use;  every  effort  at  articulation 
ended  in  convulsive  sobs.  The  elements  having  sub- 
sided, Zach  was  taking  his  turn  at  having  a  little 
gale  of  his  own,  a  tempest  which,  with  due  regard 
to  masses  and  forces,  might  well  have  been  compared 
to  the  vaporous  one.  All  the  grief  and  wrath  with 
which  his  little  heart  was  packed  came  oozing  forth 
in  those  scalding  tears. 

Sandy  looked  on  amazed.  It  is  doubtful  if  he 
had  ever  before  witnessed  such  a  human  simoom. 
He  stammered  one  or  two  words  of  protest,  and 
stolidly  waited. 

The  storm  duly  spent  itself,  the  tears  at  last 
ceased  to  flow,  and  the  throbbing  heart  slowed  down 
to  its  normal  running  time. 

"Got  through?"  asked  Sandy  sympathetically. 

Zach  did  not  deign  to  answer.  He  received  with 
a  resentful  air  this  eleventh-hour  comfort. 

"I  say,  Bub,  I  ben  thinkin'  'bout  you,"  went  on 
the  visitor,  taking  off  his  cap  and  scratching  his 


Z  A  CHARY  PHI  PS.  25 

matted  hair  as  by-play  to  his  talk.  '"T  ain't  ben 
downright  easy  cruisin'  with  me,  but  it  seems  ez  ef 
you  must  'a'  hed  a  long  spell  o'  thick  weather,  to 
bawl  like  thet." 

Still  unpropitiated,  Zach  made  no  reply,  but  sulk- 
ily studied  the  speaker  askance. 

One  could,  indeed,  hardly  help  looking  at  him. 
lie  was  of  that  not  uncommon  type  whose  physical 
traits  reach  a  pitch  of  ugliness  where  they  acquire  a 
distinctively  fascinating  value.  He  had  a  tall,  gaunt, 
loose-jointed  figure,  a  homely,  freckled  face,  and  a 
shock  of  carroty  hair.  He  was,  furthermore,  dis- 
tinguished by  an  aggressively  bony  look;  his  skel- 
eton seemed  struggling  at  every  point  to  assert  it- 
self, his  big  hands  bristled  with  joints  and  knuckles, 
his  legs  seemed  all  knees  and  ankles.  His  skull  was 
sharply  outlined,  while  his  square  jaw  and  Roman 
nose  completed  the  anatomical  impression. 

Scarcely  glancing  at  Zach  as  he  talked,  he  kept 
his  eye  fixed  on  the  weather-beaten  old  cap  which 
he  smoothed  on  his  knee.  The  brooding  twilight  of 
the  forecastle,  emphasizing  the  heavy  down-lines  of 
his  face,  gave  him  a  saturnine  expression,  while  the 
peculiar  drawl  with  which  he  ended  certain  words 
had  the  vocal  effect  of  a  croak. 

"You're  a  youngster,  Bub,  an'  it  may  be  all 
right  for  you  to  bawl;  but  it 's  a  landlubber  trick, 
V  I  would  n't  do  it !  " 

"I  don't  bawl !  "  said  Zach  angrily. 

"Wall,  I  hope  ye  don't;  it's  no  good;  things  go 
right  on  jest  the  same,  sloppin'  up  an'  down  like  the 
tide,  —  ebb  V  flood,  ebb  V  flood,  —  V  ye  can't 


2G  7.ACHAEY  PUIPS. 

do  nothin'  to  help  it.  When  it  gits  so  you  can't 
stan'  any  more,  jes'  take  it  out  swearin'  to  your 
self,  or  chawin'  yer  cud;  yer  too  young  for  that  yet, 
mebbe,  but  ye  '11  find  out  some  day  that  chawin'  's 
mighty  easin'  to  the  mind  !  " 

Zach,  awaking  at  last  to  the  fact  that  all  this  was 
meant  for  sympathy,  rolled  over  on  his  side  and  re- 
garded the  speaker  with  attention. 

"But  don't  go  flatterin'  yerself,  Bub,  that  things 
is  goin'  to  be  better  bimeby!  They  ain't;  they 
never  will  be ;  they  '11  'keep  gittiu'  harder  'n'  heav- 
ier 'n'  tighter  the  hull  livin'  time.  Ye  '11  have  all 
ye  can  stan'  up  under,  never  fear;  don't  never  ex- 
pect nothin'  else." 

He  stopped  to  cut  a  piece  of  tobacco  from  his  plug 
and  put  it  into  his  mouth,  where  it  made  a  big  bidge 
in  his  cheek. 

"This  livin'  business,"  he  went  on  presently, 
squirting  a  mouthful  of  saliva  at  a  knot  in  the  floor 
and  wiping  his  mouth  on  the  back  of  his  hand,  "is 
a  kind  o'  grin'stone  'thout  no  water  on  it;  ye 're 
kep'  squeezed  right  down  agin  it  all  the  time,  an'  it 
jes'  squinches  the  stuff  right  out  o'  ye,  'n'  ther  don't 
seem  to  be  no  help  for  't." 

Notwithstanding  his  gloomy  face,  his  drawl,  and 
his  sombre  talk,  Zach  derived  unmistakable  comfort 
from  his  visitor;  while  the  latter,  without  any  as- 
surance from  Zach,  understood  equally  well  that  he 
was  valued.  These  mutual  impressions  were  not 
conveyed  by  words,  still  less  by  looks,  but  were  the 
result  of  one  of  nature's  mysterious  little  electrical 
operations. 


ZACIIAKY  PHIPS.  27 

The  acquaintanceship  thus  begun  was  not  suffered 
to  languish ;  it  quickly  ripened  to  intimacy,  and  Zach 
presently  discovered,  not  much  to  his  surprise,  that 
his  new  friend,  in  addition  to  certain  deep-rooted 
prejudices  against  mankind  in  general,  had  a  special 
loathing  for  Sharky,  whose  tyrannous  rule  awoke 
in  him  a  rebellious  spirit.  Here  was  accordingly  a 
further  and  stronger  bond  of  union. 

"Look  a-here,  Bub,"  Sandy  began  one  morning, 
with  a  darkling  look  upwards  towards  the  deck, 
"d'  ye  know  what  he  's  steerin'  for?  " 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"Well,  he  's  goiii'  to  ship  ye  back  thar." 

"Where?" 

"To  yer  step-marm  'n'  the  schoolmaster." 

"How  do  you  know?  "  asked  Zach,  with  a  startled 
look. 

"'Cos  he  let  it  all  out  to  the  second  mate  last 
night  on  deck.  He  's  goin'  to  keep  his  claw  on  ye 
an'  take  ye  back  himself,  in  hopes  to  squeeze  money 
out  o'  yer  old  man  for  bringin'  ye  back,"  he  con- 
cluded in  an  impressive  whisper. 

Zach  was  so  overwhelmed  at  thought  of  being  the 
object  of  this  black  plot  that  for  several  minutes  he 
could  not  speak. 

"Now,  see  here,  Bub,"  continued  Sandy,  cutting 
up  some  tobacco  for  his  pipe  and  grinding  it  between 
his  horny  palms,  "me  'n'  you  '11  jes'  knock  the  plug 
out  o'  that  bung-hole." 

"Yes,"  whispered  Zach  eagerly. 

"  Soon  as  we  make  land  we  '11  watch  chances 
an'"  — 


28  ZACHABY  PUIPS. 

"Eh?" 

"Cut  stick." 

"Kunaway?" 

"Yeah;  I'm  sick  o' this.  I'm  shipped  for  the 
round  trip  back  to  Bos'n  agin,  'n'  I  shall  lose  my 
pay,  — but  what 's  the  odds!  " 

"Where  shall  we  go  to  ?  "  asked  Zach  breathlessly. 

"Wait  'n'  see,  Bub!  Wait  'n'  see!  ther 's  time 
enough;  but  keep  dark,  mind  ye!  "waving  the  hand 
which  held  his  pipe  warningly  at  his  little  hearer, 
"dark  as  Egypt!  Jes'  lay  right  here;  you  're  lame, 
ye  know,"  with  an  impressive  wink,  "'n'  as  soon 
as  we  make  land,"  lowering  his  voice  cautiously, 
"we  '11  show  'em  a  clean  pair  o'  heels." 

Overjoyed  at  this  prospect  of  escape,  Zach  prom- 
ised to  do  all  that  was  required  of  him,  and  even  ac- 
quiesced in  the  hard  condition  that  his  friend  should 
pay  him  no  more  visits  lest  it  should  arouse  suspi- 
cion. Thenceforth,  accordingly,  Sandy  only  looked 
in  occasionally,  with  a  nod  or  a  word  to  let  the  boy 
know  that  he  was  not  forgotten. 

At  last  the  longed-for  time  came.  Zach  was 
aroused  one  day  by  an  unusual  bustle  on  deck. 
The  sounds  of  hurrying  feet  and  the  rapid  succes- 
sion of  oaths  and  orders  told  him  that  something 
had  happened.  Straightway  he  flew  into  such  a 
state  of  excitement  that  he  had  much  ado  to  keep 
his  bed.  After  an  hour  or  more  Sandy  popped  in 
his  head,  and  informed  him  in  a  loud  whisper  that 
they  were  almost  in ;  that  the  ship  was  sailing  up 
the  river,  and  would  make  dock  before  night. 

"Now,  Bub,"  concluded  Sandy,  with  the  nearest 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  29 

approach  to  animation  he  had  ever  shown,  "keep 
yer  eye  peeled  an'  stan'  from  under,  'n'  we  '11  give 
'em  the  slip  the  very  first  minit !  Keep  dark,  'n' 
I  '11  pass  ye  the  word !  " 

The  prospect  of  so  soon  being  at  liberty  set  Zach 
in  a  quiver.  He  got  up  trembling  like  an  aspen, 
put  on  his  clothes,  and  crept  back  to  bed.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  he  waited  ages  for  Sandy  to  come.  The 
suspense  was  almost  too  much  for  his  philosophy, 
and  he  even  had  intermittent  suspicions  that  his 
friend  had  gone  without  him. 

But  as  other  things  earthly  come  to  an  end,  so 
also  did  the  voyage  of  the  Susan  Carter,  and  after 
the  bustle  attending  the  docking  of  the  vessel  was 
over,  Sandy  came  creeping  down  to  say  that  the 
captain  had  gone  ashore  with  his  papers  to  report, 
that  the  vessel  was  in  charge  of  Sharky,  and  that  it 
was  only  a  question  of  time  when  he  would  be  too 
drunk  to  know  what  took  place. 

With  his  teeth  chattering  from  sheer  excitement, 
Zach  sat  perched  upon  the  head  of  a  cask  in  the 
forecastle,  waiting  for  the  promised  signal  to  go.  At 
last,  hearing  his  name  pronounced  in  a  hoarse  whis- 
per, he  groped  his  way  up  to  the  deck,  where  he 
found  his  companion  waiting. 

"Mum!  "muttered  Sandy,  casting  a  cautious  look 
about  to  make  sure  they  were  not  observed.  "  Ready, 
now,  here  we  go!  " 

With  these  words  he  picked  up  the  trembling  boy, 
and  with  one  toss  of  his  long  arms  landed  him  upon 
the  pier.  Directly  afterwards,  he  sprang  ashore 
himself,  and  the  two  slunk  off  in  the  darkness. 


30  ZACH  AS  Y  PHIPS. 

As  they  made  their  way  up  into  the  town  and 
wandered  along  through  the  strange,  dimly-lighted 
streets,  Zach  instinctively  seized  fast  upon  Sandy's 
big  hand  and  clung  close  to  his  side,  as  if  the  rough 
sailor  were  the  one  friend  left  him  now  in  all  the 
world. 

"Look  here,  Bub,  we  got  to  load  up  somew'eres; 
I  'm  empty  as  a  bar'l.  See,  there  's  a  place  yonder 
whar  that  red  light  is;  le's  turn  in  an'  see  wot  they 
got  fer  grub!  " 

Zach  welcomed  the  suggestion,  and  thereupon  they 
went  in.  It  proved  to  be  a  small  inn  of  the  rough- 
and-ready  sort  usually  to  be  found  along  the  water- 
front of  a  seaport  town.  The  low-ceiled  tap -room 
was  rilled  with  sailors  drinking  and  smoking.  Be- 
hind the  bar  stood  a  stout,  bullet-headed  man  in  a 
red  flannel  shirt,  dealing  out  raw  rum  and  brandy  to 
his  thirsty  customers. 

In  answer  to  Sandy's  demand  for  something  to 
eat,  he  and  Zach  were  shown  to  a  small  room  down 
the  passage,  where  a  slatternly  maid-servant  placed 
before  them  some  cold  boiled  beef,  a  brown  loaf,  and 
a  pitcher  of  cider. 

Having  both  eaten  their  fill,  Sandy  lighted  his 
pipe  and  proceeded  to  explore  his  pockets  for  where- 
withal to  pay  the  scot.  All  told,  his  funds  made  a 
scanty  showing.  He  counted  the  greasy-looking 
coins  over  and  over,  and  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"This  can't  go  on,  Bub;  we've  got  to  raise  the 
wind  straight  away,  or  we  're  stranded." 

Zach  looked  uneasy.  Hitherto  he  had  thought  of 
Sandy  as  a  person  of  vast  and  indefinite  resources. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  31 

"It  '11  be  the  soft  side  of  a  plank  to-night,  young 
un,  and  a  tight  squeeze  for  breakfast.  After  that 
there 's  nothin'  but  fool-luck  'twixt  us  an'  the 
bottom." 

"The  bottom  of  what?"  asked  Zach,  much  star- 
tled. 

"EverythinV 

"Goin'  to  sleep  outdoors?  " 

"Yeah;  an'  the  sooner  we  git  out  the  better,  for 
some  o'  our  old  gang  '11  be  turnin'  up  here." 

Whereupon,  closely  followed  by  Zach,  Sandy 
pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  stalked  into  the  tap- 
room, paid  his  lawing,  and  lounged  carelessly  out 
into  the  street. 

The  weather  had  changed  for  the  worse,  clouds 
covered  the  sky,  and  a  piercing  wind  blew  up  from 
the  river. 

"Seen better  nights  'nthis  fercampin'  out,  Bub," 
grumbled  the  sailor. 

But  Zach  was  too  cold  and  tired  and  sleepy  for 
any  criticism  upon  the  weather,  as  he  trudged  along 
after  his  tall  companion  in  a  homesick  plight. 

The  sailor  made  his  way  down  to  the  water-side, 
and  in  and  out  among  the  docks,  glancing  hither  and 
thither  with  a  watchful  eye.  Presently  he  stopped 
upon  a  pier  piled  with  merchandise,  saying,  — 

"Here  we  be,  Bub;  here  's  our  chance.  *T  ain't 
feathers,  nor  straw,  but  it 's  the  next  best  thing, 
see?  Cotton-bales,  soft  as  down  'n'  warm  as  sun- 
shine. Stand  stiff,  now,  'n'  I  '11  give  ye  a  boost." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  hoisted  the 
sleepy  Zach  up  to  the  top  of  the  pile. 


32  ZACHABY  FHIPS. 

"Now,  young  un,"  he  continued,  as  he  came 
climbing  up  after  him,  "keep  to  the  leeward!  the 
leeward,  mind,  out  o'  the  teeth  o'  this  nor'easter! 
Here  ye  be ;  creep  down  there !  " 

Having  found  a  nook  sheltered  from  the  wind,  the 
two  stowed  themselves  snugly  away  and  were  soon 
sound  asleep. 

Next  morning  Zach  awoke  with  a  shiver,  to  find 
that  Nature  had  played  the  part  of  his  valet.  A 
cold,  drizzling  rain  was  falling,  and  his  face  and 
hands  were  already  washed.  Worse  than  that,  his 
clothes  were  almost  drenched,  and  he  had  no  change 
of  garments  at  hand.  Looking  at  Sandy,  who  lay 
still  soundly  sleeping,  he  hesitated  whether  to  wake 
him,  but  the  sight  of  his  wet  clothes  settled  the 
question. 

Sandy,  on  being  aroused,  lost  no  time  in  yawning 
and  stretching  under  such  circumstances,  but,  jump- 
ing up  at  once,  cried,  — 

"Come  on,  Bub,  le's  git  out  o'  this!  Cuss  the 
weather!  Jest  my  luck,  this  is.  Come  on!  Le's 
board  that  old  hulk  agin,  an'  git  dried  out.  Hope 
ye  ain't  hungry?" 

"No  —  er,  n-not  real!  " 

"  'Cos  it  '11  hev  to  be  short  pickin's  this  mornin'," 
fumbling  in  his  pockets.  "A  bite  an'  a  swaller,  to 
keep  yer  stomach  from  squeezin'  in." 

Zach  looked  so  dismayed  at  this  news  that  Sandy 
added  as  a  word  of  comfort,  — 

"But  you  keep  a  taut  upper  lip,  young  un! 
We  '11  raise  the  wind  to-day;  we  've  got  to  raise  it, 
that's  the  Dutch  of  it!" 


Z AGHAST  PHIPS.  33 

They  went  shivering  and  dripping  back  to  the 
little  inn.  It  had  not  yet  been  put  in  trim  for 
the  day.  Everything  looked  cold  and  dirty  and 
neglected,  —  the  tables  covered  with  soiled  glasses, 
the  sanded  floor  with  discarded  tobacco  quids, 
broken  pipes,  and  other  refuse,  the  bar  with  empty 
bottles.  The  slatternly  maid,  heavy-eyed  from  her 
broken  rest,  was  sweeping  out;  the  bullet-headed 
tapster  was  sunk  in  a  sodden  sleep  behind  the  coun- 
ter, all  unconscious  of  a  blear-eyed  lounger  waiting 
for  his  morning  dram. 

It  was  not  a  cheering  prospect,  but  the  guests 
were  little  inclined  to  be  captious.  Accordingly, 
having  waited  patiently  until  the  disheveled  maid 
had  swept  the  room,  freshly  sanded  the  floor,  and 
set  the  furniture  in  order,  Sandy  approached  her  on 
the  subject  of  food. 

"Breakfast  ain't  ready,"  she  answered  curtly. 

"'Breakfast'!  Oh,  well  —  er  —  we  ain't  per- 
tickler  what  ye  call,  it;  it's  vittles  we  want;  a 
chunk  o'  bread  'n'  a  gulp  o'  hot  drink  '11  serve  our 
turn." 

"Git  in  there,  then,  'n'  I'll  see!"  was  the  un- 
gracious answer. 

Following  the  direction  of  the  maid's  broomstick, 
the  two  went  into  the  eating-room,  where  they  were 
presently  served  with  a  stale  loaf  and  some  muddy 
coffee. 

After  eating  the  last  crumb  and  drinking  the  last 
drop  of  this  scanty  provision,  they  were  still  far 
from  satisfied,  but  having  no  other  resource,  went 
back  to  the  tap-room  and  disconsolately  sat  down  in 


34  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

their  wet  clothes.  Sandy  filled  his  pipe,  and  re- 
viewed the  situation  with  a  morose  air,  while  Zach 
awaited  in  silence  the  result  of  his  deliberation. 

"This  is  a  tough  world,  Bub!"  broke  out  the 
sailor,  after  a  little. 

Accepting  this  as  a  profound  and  original  reflec- 
tion, Zach  looked  impressed. 

"A  tough  world!  There's  things  enough  an' 
chances  enough  in  it,  only  somehow  they  don't  seem 
to  fall  to  the  folks  that  need  'em !  There  's  nothin' 
lyin'  round  loose;  everythin'  belongs  to  somebody. 
The  question  is,  how  'd  they  git  it?  What  I  want 
to  know  is,  how  did  all  these  folks  git  these  things?  " 

Zach  shook  his  head  helplessly. 

"Hanged  if  it  don't  seem 's  'f  everythm'  hed 
been  parceled  out  'fore  I  was  born." 

"Was  you  always  a  sailor?"  asked  Zach  sud- 
denly. 

"No,  Bub.  I  was  born  down  on  the  coast  o' 
Maine,  an'  I  was  brought  up  a  fisherman,  'n'  if  I  'd 
stuck  to  it,  I  would  n't  'a'  been  in  this  pickle.  But 
here  we  be,  'n'  we  got  to  face  the  music.  I  never 
done  no  starvin'  yet,  'n'  I  ain't  goin'  to  begin  now, 
I  can  tell  'em  that!  "  he  concluded,  with  a  wave  of 
his  pipe,  as  if  in  warning  to  a  hostile  world. 

Meanwhile  the  tap-room  was  gradually  filling  with 
its  regular  frequenters :  sailors  waiting  to  be  shipped, 
superserviceable  old  salts  come  to  discuss  the  water- 
gossip,  and  the  lower  class  of  case-hardened  topers. 

To  these  entered  presently  a  man  not  to  bo  classed 
in  either  category,  with  regard  to  whom,  however, 
two  things  were  at  once  evident,  to  wit :  first,  that 


ZACIIABY  PUIPS.  35 

he  was  superior  in  education  and  breeding  to  any- 
body else  in  the  room,  and,  second,  that  he  had 
come  to  the  inn  with  a  purpose  more  serious  than 
to  drink  bad  liquor  and  smoke  villainous  tobacco. 
For  the  rest,  he  was  a  middle-aged  man,  with  a  red 
face,  long  blonde  hair,  big,  staring  blue  eyes,  and 
divers  peculiarities  of  feature  and  bearing  which 
proclaimed  his  foreign  birth. 

Although  his  eyes  wandered  ceaselessly  over  the 
room  in  earnest  observation  of  its  inmates,  he  seemed 
not  to  have  remarked  Zach  and  Sandy  in  their  dark 
corner  until  chance  suddenly  brought  them  into 
prominence. 

A  brawl  arose  among  some  sailors  at  a  table  next 
to  them.  Nobody  concerned  themselves  at  first  in 
such  an  every-day  matter.  Very  soon,  however, 
after  a  babel  of  altercation,  the  parties  came  to 
blows.  Thereupon  one  of  them,  a  swarthy  Portu- 
guese, with  an  unsaintly  visage  adorned  by  dan- 
gling earrings,  was  seen  to  draw  a  knife.  Rising 
quietly  from  his  dark  corner,  Sandy  interfered, 
seized  the  sailor,  wrenched  the  knife  from  his  grasp, 
and  sent  him  sprawling  among  the  spittoons  and 
chair  legs  on  the  floor.  Rising  with  a  furious  look, 
the  Portuguese  was  about  to  rush  upon  his  aggres- 
sor, but,  deterred  by  Sandy's  cool  look  and  formi- 
dable thews,  he  paused,  picked  up  his  knife,  and, 
with  a  torrent  of  threats  in  choice  Portuguese,  slunk 
out  of  the  room. 

Whereupon,  resuming  his  seat,  Sandy  lighted  his 
pipe  and  dismissed  the  matter  from  his  thoughts. 
Not  so  the  stranger.  Fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  sailor 


36  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

with  a  quite  peculiar  interest,  he  directly  began  to 
scrape  an  acquaintance. 

"Dis  storm,  dink  you  it  vill  last,  mine  fren'?" 
he  asked,  in  a  strong  German  accent. 

"Mebbe  't  will,  an'  mebbe  't  won't,"  answered 
Sandy,  stifling  a  yawn.  "Can't  tell  nothin'  'bout 
the  weather  away  from  the  sea." 

"How  blows  de  vind?  " 

"Wind?"  answered  Sandy  contemptuously, 
"ther  ain't  any  wind.  These  'ere  land  puffs  an' 
flukes  don't  count." 

"Also  'tis  easy  to  see  you  are  a  sailor." 

"I  be  when  I  git  a  chance." 

"Say  you  so?     You  'ave  den  no  vork?  " 

"No,"  said  Sandy,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his 
pipe  and  ruefully  cutting  up  the  heel  of  his  plug  for 
a  last  charge.  "I  'm  lookin'  for  a  job,  ef  ye  want 
the  truth,  cap'n." 

"Ha,  den,  see  you?  You  shall  look  no  more. 
You  shall  come  vith  me." 

"How  long  a  cruise?  " 

"Hm — m — m,  veil,  I  tell  you  now,"  lowering  his 
voice,  "  't  is  not  on  de  sea  ve  go!  " 

Sandy  began  to  shake  his  head. 

"Not  right  away;  ve  come  to  it  by  'n'  by,  see 
you  ?  But  first  ve  go  by  de  land,  den  upon  de  grand 
rivers  all  de  same  vith  de  sea." 

Sandy  continued  to  shake  his  head;  the  stranger 
affected  not  to  heed  him. 

"Listen,  my  fren',  dis  ees  a  great  eggsbedition. 
You  'ave  never  such  vork  before,  you  'ave  never 
such  money,  such  grog,  such  ration;  an'  after  all 
dose,  some  oder  dings  may  be  at  de  end." 


ZACIIARY  PHIPS.  37 

These  promises  appealed  forcibly  to  Sandy's 
empty  pocket  and  fasting  stomach.  Glancing  at 
Zach's  anxious  face,  a  new  thought  struck  him. 

"Look  a-here,  cap'n!  "  he  said,  tipping  back  his 
chair  and  thrusting  his  huge  hands  to  the  bottom  of 
his  empty  pockets.  "I  'm  dubious  'bout  this  busi- 
ness. I  ain't  no  landlubber,  an'  I  'm  too  old  a  bird 
to  teach  new  tricks ;  but  ef  I  say  go,  that  means  the 
young  un,  too !  " 

The  stranger  turned  a  depreciating  look  upon 
Zach,  and  his  face  fell. 

"Bah,  no,  no  !  he  ees  too  young  for  such  dings." 

"It  's  no  go  'thout  him,"  repeated  Sandy  firmly. 

Much  vexed,  the  stranger  studied  Zach  again, 
and  with  a  more  critical  air. 

"It  ees  your  son,  dis  one?" 

"No."   " 

"No?  Vy,  den,  must  he  go?  'T  ees  better  leave 
him  pehint.  Ve  find  some  gut  place,  see  you?  an  "  — 

"No  use,  cap'n,"  broke  in  Sandy  in  a  definitive 
tone. 

Seeing  that  further  discussion  was  useless,  the 
stranger  tapped  on  the  table  and  whistled  to  hide 
his  discomfiture.  Sandy  got  up  and  stretched,  as  if 
weary  of  the  discussion.  Perhaps  it  was  the  sight 
of  his  bulk  and  brawn  which  decided  the  stranger, 
for  he  suddenly  exclaimed :  — 

"Veil,  veil,  if  he  go,  so  must  you  dake  on  your- 
self de  consequence.  It  ees  a  pargain,  den,  hein? 
Gut !  Come  to  meet  me  to-morrow  so  early  as  you 
can  at  Bingham's  ; —  de  inn,  de  davern,  see  you? 
Ask  for  Bollman,  —  Dr.  Eria  Bollman,  —  unt  ve 
dalk  pout  dot  eggsbeditijii!  " 


CHAPTER  III. 

DULY  next  morning  Sandy  and  Zach  set  forth  to 
keep  their  appointment.  "Bingham's"  turned  out 
to  be  a  well-known  tavern,  and  they  found  it  without 
trouble.  Hardly  had  they  entered  the  tap-room  and 
looked  about,  when  they  saw  their  friend  of  the 
day  before  talking  with  a  stranger  in  a  neighboring 
corner.  Noting  their  entrance,  he  beckoned  them 
to  come  forward,  and  whispered  aside  to  his  com- 
panion. 

The  stranger,  a  tall,  lean  man  with  an  air  of 
authority,  glanced  carelessly  from  Sandy  to  Zach 
and  asked  sharply,  — 

"Your  child?" 

"Well,  no,"  answered  Sandy,  looking  hard  at  a 
spot  on  the  wall,  and  controlling  his  resentment  of 
the  stranger's  manner;  "he  ain't  nobody's  child  to 
speak  of." 

"What  'she  doing  here?" 

"Dunno;  guess  ye  'd  better  ask  him." 

The  stranger  turned  with  an  impatient  look  to 
his  companion,  who  whispered  something  in  his  ear. 
The  explanation,  however,  proved  unsatisfactory, 
for  it  was  met  with  prompt  and  emphatic  objections. 
Finding  his  colleague  intractable,  the  German  next 
led  Sandy  aside.  Instantly  Zach  took  alarm.  He 
knew  well  enough  what  they  were  talking  about. 


ZACHAEY  PIIIPS.  39 

He  watched  them  with  anxious  interest  until  he  saw 
Sandy  shake  his  head,  then  he  drew  a  long  breath. 
He  was  reassured.  Sandy  would  not  forsake  him ; 
the  German  might  talk  until  doomsday.  The 
stranger,  meanwhile,  was  losing  patience ;  he  broke 
in  upon  them  irritably. 

"Well,  well,  Doctor,  I  must  go.  Do  as  you 
like  I  If  he  turns  out  a  nuisance,  you  must  take  the 
blame.  But  if  they  go,  get  'em  ready  at  once.  'T  is 
time  we  were  off  already.  I  leave  all  these  matters 
to  you.  You  know  the  road.  We  shall  overtake 
you  before  noon." 

"  Ah-h-h !  "  exclaimed  Bollman,  wiping  his  stream- 
ing forehead  on  his  coat-sleeve  and  emitting  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "  So,  den,  all  ees  right.  You  shall  both 
go.  Now,  my  fren's,  sit  down  !  Listen  to  me!  I 
dell  you  last  night  I  eggsblain  dis  mornin'  vere  we 
go,  vat  ve  do,  but  you  'ave  hear  Colonel  Dupeister," 
pointing  after  the  stranger;  "dere  ees  no  longer 
time,  also  ve  vait  some  oder  day.  But  all  ees  right, 
never  fear!  It  ees  a  great  ding,  a  gr-rand  ding, 
dees  eggsbedition.  Make  all  rich,  —  you,  me,  de 
boy,  too,  everybody,  —  vith  lands,  an'  slaves,  an' 
cattle;  but,"  looking  around  suspiciously,  "sh-h!  it 
ees  yet  a  secret ;  keep  de  mouth  tight.  I  tell  you 
someding:  ve  'ave  for  leader  a  great  man.  Talk 
apout  your  Vashingtons,  bah!  dis  ees  de  great 
American  of  all.  Veil,  he  go  vith  us,  he  lead  us. 
It  ees  for  dat  ve  keep  mum,  see  you?  Go,  now," 
he  continued,  drawing  out  his  purse  and  handing 
Sandy  some  money,  "get  de  clothes,  unt  de  shoes, 
unt  oder  dings,  unt  come  avay  back  again  like  de 


40  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

vind !  Ve  start  yonder  from  de  stable-yard  in  an 
hour;  seexty  minutes.  Ve  'ave  a  horse  for  you, 
an'  you  vil  take  de  boy  on  a  pillion  behint,  see?  " 

Promising  to  be  on  hand,  Sandy  went  rolling 
away,  with  Zach  on  a  half-run  at  his  heels.  Steer- 
ing straight  for  the  river-streets  with  true  seafaring 
instinct,  he  went  first  to  a  tobacconist  and  laid  in  a 
goodly  supply  of  plug.  This  prime  necessity  of  life 
secured,  he  next  found  out  a  cheap  outfitting  shop 
for  sailors,  where  he  bought  what  was  needed  in  the 
way  of  clothes.  There  being  a  lack  of  infant  sizes 
in  stock,  it  resulted  that  Zach's  pea-jacket  was  much 
too  big  for  him.  Little  he  cared,  however,  for  so 
small  a  matter.  Beholding  himself  at  last,  attired 
in  true  seaman's  rig,  his  heart  swelled  well-nigh  to 
bursting,  and  vainglory  blinded  him  to  all  shortcom- 
ings. Straightway  he  discarded  his  apron  and 
strutted  along  after  Sandy  on  their  way  to  the  inn, 
quite  oblivious  of  the  oddity  of  his  appearance. 

Not  so,  as  it  proved,  were  the  bystanders.  Pass- 
ing a  group  of  boys  playing  in  the  street,  the  pair 
were  assailed  by  a  jeering  chorus. 

"Hello,  Bill,  look  a'  that!  " 

"Where?" 

"There,  following  the  sailor-man!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"A  monkey." 

"A  porpus." 

"Say,  mister,  where  'dye  ketch  that  there,  thing 
in  the  jacket?" 

Unmoved  by  this  buzzing  of  street  flies,  Sandy 
stalked  along,  urging  his  companion  to  make  haste. 


ZACH  AS  Y  PHIPS.  41 

Receiving  no  answer,  he  turned  about.  There,  fa- 
cing his  jeerers  in  the  narrow  street,  Zach  stood  at 
bay.  So  much  jacket  and  so  little  Jboy  have  rarely 
been  seen  in  combination.  His  belligerent  attitude, 
moreover,  added  to  the  situation  a  crowning  comical 
touch,  which  was  fatal  to  all  gravity.  A  roar  of 
laughter  greeted  his  movement.  The  mirth  was  ex- 
cusable, but  short-lived.  Glancing  around  the  circle 
and  singling  out  the  ringleader,  Zach  walked  grimly 
up  to  him  and  slapped  his  face.  Needless  to  say, 
there  was  a  battle.  Although  his  opponent  was  a 
bigger  boy,  Zach  for  some  minutes  held  his  own. 
Hampered,  however,  by  his  new  toggery,  he  pres- 
ently began  to  lose  ground.  Thereupon,  Sandy 
stepped  forward  and  helped  him  off  with  his  jacket, 
saying:  — 

"There  you  be,  Bub;  now  go  in  an'  lick  him!  " 
Nothing  loath,  Zach  rushed  back  to  the  fray ;  but 
at  best  it  proved  an  unequal  contest.  The  superior 
strength  and  bottom  of  his  adversary  became  mo- 
mently more  evident.  One  circumstance  alone  put 
the  issue  in  doubt :  the  way  in  which,  after  every 
bout,  Zach  returned  again  and  again  to  the  struggle, 
his  face  transfigured  by  the  uncanny  look  of  the 
born  fighter,  —  a  look  none  the  less  impressive  that 
it  is  distinctively  brutal,  proclaiming,  as  it  does, 
something  within  heroic  or  demonic,  insensible  to 
fear,  incapable  of  surrender;  something  which,  with 
ruthless  ferocity,  drives  the  worsted,  maimed,  mori- 
bund body  back  to  fight  it  out  to  the  death. 

Sandy,   standing  by  without  thought  of  interfer- 
ence, heard  a  clock  strike  in  a  neighboring  steeple. 


42  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Directly  he  bethought  him  of  the  business  in  hand. 
The  sixty  minutes  had  expired,  and  they  were  due 
at  Bingham's.  Seizing  Zach,  therefore,  without 
ceremony,  he  dragged  him  away,  saying :  — 

"Come,  Bub,  you've  had  enough  of  that,  I 
reckon ! " 

Such  an  indignity  was  not  to  be  borne  by  flesh 
and  blood.  Directly  the  young  combatant  turned 
with  all  his  remaining  strength  upon  the  intermed- 
dler.  The  latter,  however,  nothing  moved,  went 
striding  on,  holding  the  writhing,  kicking,  screaming 
pigmy  in  his  forceful  grip. 

Arrived  at  the  inn,  they  found  a  half-dozen  horses 
standing  saddled  in  the  yard  in  charge  of  a  couple 
of  negroes.  Men  were  shouting,  and  hurrying  to 
and  fro,  and  there  was  the  usual  bustle  preliminary 
to  a  journey. 

Presently  Bollman  appeared,  followed  by  several 
sturdy  fellows,  with  the  air  of  frontiersmen,  and  the 
preparations  were  soon  complete.  The  order  being 
given  to  mount,  the  others  sprang  to  their  saddles, 
and  Sandy  more  clumsily  climbed  upon  the  big,  raw- 
boned  beast  allotted  to  him. 

Zach,  who  on  being  released  had  thrown  himself 
on  the  muddy  ground  in  sulks,  gave  no  heed  to  these 
preparations.  Bollman  luckily  was  too  much  pre- 
occupied to  note  the  trouble.  Thus  Sandy  was  left 
to  manage  the  matter  himself,  which  he  did  with 
absolute  wisdom. 

Taking  no  notice  of  the  sulker  until  the  signal 
was  given  to  start,  he  turned,  as  he  slowly  rode  out 
of  the  stable-yard  at  the  tail  of  the  little  cavalcade, 
and  said,  in  an  unconcerned  drawl,  — 


ZACIIARY  PUIPS.  43 

"  Good-by,  Bub ;  give  my  respects  to  your  marm 
'n'  the  schoolmaster  !  " 

These  tactics  availed,  for  hardly  had  they  gone  a 
dozen  rods  when  the  repentant  youngster  came  run- 
ning after  them,  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  — 

"Stop!  stop!  Wait  for  me!  Take  me!  I  want 
to  go.  I  will  go-o-o!  " 

Sandy,  lagging  purposely  in  the  rear,  allowed 
himself  to  be  overtaken. 

"So  ye  think  ye  'd  ruther  go,  eh?" 

"Yeah,"  sulkily. 

Without  a  word  of  admonition  or  upbraiding,  the 
sailor  reached  down,  and  clutching  the  little  penitent 
by  the  collar,  lifted  him  like  a  feather  into  the  pil- 
lion, where  for  a  full  hour  he  rode  in  shamefaced 
silence.  Meantime,  Sandy  was  busy  taking  note  of 
his  companions,  and  speculating  as  to  the  object  of 
their  journey. 

"Queer  sort  of  cruise,  this  is,"  he  muttered  to 
Zach.  "Blowed  'f  I  can  make  it  out,  Bub.  It 
has  a  kind  o'  privateerin'  look.  Them  scalpers," 
nodding  towards  the  frontiersmen,  "look  like  Injun 
fighters.  I  never  seen  no  Injuns,  but  I  seen  pirates 
enough,  'n'  the'  ain't  no  great  difference,  I  reckon. 
They  're  a  murderin'  lot,  all  on  'em.  Where  's  the 
rest  of  'em,  I  wonder?  This  ain't  the  whole  crew. 
An'  this  big  gun,  they  talk  about, — where 's  he? 
An'  this  place  where  the  land  an'  the  slaves  an'  the 
cattle  be,  —  well,  Bub,  we  hain't  seen  every  thin' 
we  're  goin'  to  see  on  this  cruise,  yet.  Never  mind," 
pushing  down  the  hot  ashes  in  his  pipe  with  a  cal- 
loused forefinger,  —  "never  mind,  I  say;  we  're  in 


44  ZACHARY  PHIP8. 

for  it  now,  'n'  we  've  got  to  take  our  chances.  You 
jes'  stick  close  to  me,  keep  your  ears  cocked,  'n' 
say  nothin'.  It  may  be  all  right,  but  1  don't  like 
this  turning  away  from  salt  water." 

Moved  by  these  ominous  words,  Zach  began  the 
journey  with  an  ill.-grounded  feeling  of  distrust  to- 
wards his  traveling  companions,  together  with  cer- 
tain undefined  misgivings  as  to  the  end  and  aim  of 
their  mission. 

As  the  road  was  none  of  the  best,  and  they  were 
indifferently  mounted,  their  pace  was  necessarily 
slow,  but  quite  fast  enough,  be  it  said,  for  Sandy 
and  Zach,  neither  of  them  experienced  horsemen. 
The  frontiersmen  rode  side  by  side  without  exchan- 
ging a  word.  The  negroes  kept  up  an  idle  chatter 
between  themselves,  while  Bollman,  in  a  state  of 
chronic  perspiration,  rode  up  and  down  the  line, 
scanning  the  looks  and  equipment  of  his  party  with 
the  eye  of  one  responsible  for  the  success  of  the 
expedition. 

About  noon,  coming  to  a  suitable  place  upon  the 
roadside,  he  called  a  halt,  and  gave  orders  for  din- 
ner. All  dismounted  and  took  a  hand  in  the  prep- 
arations. Even  Zach,  at  a  hint  from  Sandy,  made 
himself  useful  by  bringing  water  from  a  spring 
hard  by. 

When  dinner  was  over,  Bollman,  seeking  out  his 
new  recruits,  confirmed  Zach's  darkest  forebodings 
by  giving  Sandy  a  pistol  and  a  dirk  to  wear  in  his 
belt,  saying  significantly,  — 

"Tis  gut  to  haf  dose.     One  knows  never  vat 
comes  in  de  vilderness  !  " 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  45 

The  unconcerned  look  with  which  Sandy  took  the 
weapons,  examined  them,  and  stuck  them  in  his  belt, 
was  not  lost  on  Bollman,  who  walked  away  with  a 
reassured  air. 

Presently  an  exclamation  from  one  of  the  negroes 
drew  attention.  He  stood  in  the  road,  pointing 
towards  the  town.  All  looked,  but  saw  nothing. 
The  sound  of  horses'  feet,  however,  could  be  dis- 
tinctly heard.  Bollman  waited  in  a  fever  of  anxiety 
until  the  riders  appeared  around  a  bend  in  the  road, 
when  at  once  his  face  cleared,  and  he  stepped  for- 
ward with  a  welcoming  smile.  "  Well,  I  '11  be 
drawed  an'  quartered,"  muttered  Sandy,  studying 
the  party  with  squinted  eyes. 

"What?" 

"There  's  a  petticoat  among  'em  !  " 

Without  finding  any  significance  in  Sandy's  dis- 
covery, Zach  examined  the  small  party  which  came 
galloping  towards  them,  with  boyish  interest.  Colo- 
nel Dupeister  rode  in  front,  and  seemed  the  leader 
and  spokesman.  A  couple  of  attendants  brought 
up  the  rear.  Between  these  two  detachments,  as 
between  a  van  and  rear  guard,  rode  a  couple  of 
whom  one  wore  the  petticoats  which  Sandy  had  de- 
scried. Although  the  woman's  face  was  closely 
veiled,  Zach  received,  from  her  general  bearing,  an 
impression  of  youth  and  distinction.  Withal  his 
curiosity  was  so  much  excited  that  he  failed  to  no- 
tice her  companion,  and  only  remembered  him  after 
wards  as  a  small,  silent  man  wearing  a  slouch  hat. 

Meanwhile  Sandy,  who  had  been  quietly  studying 
the  group,  muttered  aside,  to  Zach,  — 


46  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

"This  ain't  no  Injun  business,  Bub." 

"Eh,  why?  What  makes  you  think  so?"  asked 
Zach,  in  a  tone  of  evident  disappointment. 

"You  see  these  grandees?  Well,  they're  mixed 
up  in  it  some  way.  They  're  bound  for  the  same 
port  we  be.  No,  't  ain't  Injuns,  but  I  'm  hanged 
'f  I  know  wot  else  it  is." 

Further  speculation  was  cut  short  by  the  move- 
ments of  the  party.  Dupeister  seemed  to  be  taking 
leave;  to  some  inaudible  question  of  Bollman,  he 
answered,  as  he  turned  away,  — 

"If  you  don't  come  up  with  us  this  side  of  Pitts- 
burgh, we  shall  meet  on  the  boat." 

"The  boat,"  Zach  repeated,  as  he  watched  the 
little  party  gallop  away  until  they  were  lost  to  sight 
in  the  windings  of  the  road.  "Shall  we  go  in  a 
boat,  Sandy?" 

"Lord  knows,  young  un." 

"Where  is  the  water?  Where  can  they  put  a 
boat  out  here  in  the  woods?" 

"In  one  o'  them  little  ditches  they  call  rivers,  I 
reckon." 

This  talk  was  interrupted  by  the  order  to  move, 
and  they  presently  started  on  in  the  wake  of  their 
leaders.  Nothing  eventful  marked  their  slow  prog- 
ress westward,  yet  day  by  day,  as  they  fared  along 
through  the  virgin  forests,  across  the  broad  Susque- 
hannah,  and  threaded  the  mountain  pass  beyond, 
a  store  of  new  impressions  were  made  on  Zach's  re- 
ceptive mind.  Neither  long  nor  wearisome  to  him 
seemed  the  three  weeks'  pilgrimage  which  brought 
them  at  last  to  the  little  frontier  town  of  Pittsburgh. 


ZA CHAR  Y  PIIIPS.  47 

The  travelers  looked  about  with  natural  curiosity  as 
they  entered  the  place.  Zach  dissembled  with  diffi- 
culty his  great  disappointment  upon  finding  that  the 
inhabitants  were  not  Indians,  while  Sandy,  viewing 
with  unconcealed  disgust  the  little  shops,  the  mean 
houses,  the  muddy  street  thronged  with  dirty  chil- 
dren and  roving  hogs,  asked  what  could  be  expected 
of  a  place  five  hundred  miles  from  the  sea. 

The  river,  when  they  came  to  it,  proved  a  source 
of  even  greater  chagrin.  Although  broad  and  deep, 
its  turbid  current,  to  a  Boston  boy,  could  not  for  a 
moment  be  compared  with  the  clear  and  winding 
Charles,  while  Sandy  would  not  allow  that  it  was 
even  composed  of  the  same  element  as  the  sea. 

Among  the  fleet  of  river-craft  floating  in  the 
stream,  the  Doctor  soon  picked  out  the  one  belong- 
ing to  his  own  party,  and  made  a  private  signal  for 
her  to  approach.  Sandy  stared  with  amazement  at 
the  strange  structure,  as  she  neared  the  levee,  and 
having  critically  surveyed  her  from  stem  to  stern, 
regardless  of  the  presence  of  his  companions,  he 
broke  into  a  loud  guffaw. 

"A  boat!"  he  cried,  "that  thing  a  boat!  'T  is 
nothin'  but  an  old  cider-mill  on  a  raft.  A  boat!  " 
he  repeated,  almost  choking  with  unexpressed  con- 
tempt. "Wall,  .it 's  the  Devil's  turn  next." 

Well  might  the  odd  structure  before  them  have 
excited  the  contempt  of  a  sailor.  In  point  of  fact  it 
was  not  a  boat,  but  an  ark,  or  big  floating  house, 
fitted  up  with  rooms  for  eating,  sleeping,  and  cook- 
ing, all  covered  by  a  roof  which  served  at  need  as 
a  promenade  deck.  Its  most  striking  peculiarity, 


48  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

however,  and  one  which  completed  Sandy's  amaze- 
ment, was  the  entire  absence  of  any  propelling  ap- 
paratus, —  neither  oars,  paddles,  nor  sails  were  to 
be  seen  on  the  Bouncing  Bet.  Upon  inquiry  he 
learned  that  craft  of  this  sort  were  designed  simply 
to  float  with  the  current,  and  were  kept  clear  of 
snags  and  sandbanks  by  poling.  His  scorn  of  such 
navigation  was  so  extreme  that  it  was  with  much 
difficulty  he  could  be  induced  to  embark. 

There  was  a  delay  of  a  whole  day  at  Pittsburgh 
to  give  Bollman  time  to  sell  his  horses  and  lay  in 
a  stock  of  provisions.  Their  crew,  moreover,  was 
reinforced  by  a  squad  of  negroes,  skilled  in  river 
navigation,  concerning  whom  Sandy  whispered  to 
Zach  the  startling  .suggestion  that  the  Doctor  had 
"mos'  likely  traded  off  the  hosses  for  the  niggers." 

They  found  the  vanguard  of  the  party  already 
comfortably  established  on  the  ark,  —  the  same 
five  they  had  seen  on  the  highway.  The  "Great 
Unknown  "  had  evidently  not  yet  joined  them,  for 
Colonel  Dupeister  still  acted  as  leader. 

At  first  there  was  a  good  deal  of  confusion,  but 
directly  they  were  under  way,  the  Colonel  set  about 
a  thorough  organization  of  the  expedition,  in  which 
he  showed  much  cleverness.  He  made  a  roster  of 
the  men,  inquired  into  their  qualifications,  and  as- 
signed them  to  duty  accordingly.  As  before,  his 
brows  contracted  when  he  came  to  Zach. 

In  the  distribution  of  offices,  the  conduct  of  the 
ark  was  given  to  Sandy,  and  the  negroes  were  al- 
lotted him  for  a  crew.  The  new  skipper  was  not 
elated  at  his  charge,  but  it  was  remarked  that  the 


Z AC 'II ART  PHIPS.  49 

bitterness  of  his  prejudice  against  the  Bouncing  Bet 
somewhat  abated  when  on  the  second  day  she  devel- 
oped a  speed  of  eight  miles  an  hour.  And  his  feel- 
ing was  changed  to  positive  respect  after  one  or  two 
narrow  escapes  from  snags  and  sandbanks,  when  it 
required  all  his  own  strength  and  agility,  supple- 
mented by  the  skill  of  an  experienced  crew,  to  bring 
them  safely  through.  Henceforth,  in  his  flings  at 
the  world,  at  mankind,  and  at  life  in  general,  the 
Bouncing  Bet  came  off  scathless. 

On  taking  command  the  new  skipper  intimated  to 
Zach,  with  an  air  of  great  earnestness  and  gravity, 
that  he  was  to  be  worked  in  as  mate.  Forthwith 
the  puny  youngster  swelled  in  imagination  to  the 
dimensions  of  the  redoubtable  Sharky.  The  duties 
of  his  office,  however,  as  defined  by  Sandy,  proved 
so  light  that  there  was  left  much  spare  time  in  which 
to  observe  his  fellow-travelers.  Very  interesting 
they  proved,  too,  that  little  group  of  cabin  passen- 
gers, so  unlike  anybody  he  had  ever  known.  As'it 
turned  out,  moreover,  he  could  watch  them  quite  at 
his  ease,  for  they  were  too  busy  to  heed  him.  In- 
deed, he  could  by  no  means  understand  why  they 
were  so  busy;  morning,  noon,  and  night  they 
seemed  ceaselessly  at  work  copying  papers,  studying 
maps,  writing  dispatches,  consulting  and  whisper- 
ing apart.  In  their  preoccupation  they  took  little 
note  of  their  surroundings,  save  as  now  and  then 
the  lady  challenged  their  attention  to  some  bit  of 
scenery.  Meanwhile,  it  was  the  lady  herself  who 
chiefly  drew  Zach's  attention.  Whenever  she  ap- 
peared on  deck,  he  stared  at  her  with  might  and 


50  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

main,  and  for  his  infatuation  in  regard  to  her  gave 
the  following  rather  lame  account  to  Sandy. 

"'T  ain't  'cos  she  's  so  handsome,  — she  's  hand- 
some enough,  though,  —  it 's  the  way  she  acts." 

"Humph!" 

"An'  when  she  talks,  you  want  her  to  keep  goin' 
right  on." 

"Got  the  gift  o'  gab,  I  suppose." 

"An'  then  the  way  she  says  her  words  " 

"Kind  o'  slip  right  out,"  suggested  Sandy. 

"Yeah." 

"Yeah.     I  see  one  o'  that  kind  once." 

Withal  Zach  could  not  understand  how  the  Colo- 
nel and  the  Doctor  could  neglect  so  charming  a  per- 
son, and  spend  all  their  time  talking  with  the  silent 
little  man  in  the  slouch  hat. 

In  this  Sandy  agreed  with  him,  and  they  were 
puzzling  over  it  one  evening  after  their  fashion,  when 
something  happened,  which  threw  an  unexpected 
light  upon  the  matter. 

It  was  just  after  sunset.  The  boat  was  gliding 
smoothly  down  a  long,  straight  stretch  in  the  river, 
and  the  skipper  and  mate  sat  a  little  apart  on  the 
forward  deck  smoking  their  pipes,  —  yes,  it  must 
with  reluctance  be  confessed  that  Zach  had  become 
a  confirmed  smoker.  Having  appropriated  an  old 
clay  pipe  of  Sandy's,  he  had  persevered  through 
more  than  one  violent  attack  of  nausea,  until  now  he 
puffed  the  rankest  plug  with  the  aplomb  of  a  vet- 
eran. Sandy,  considering  it  a  proper  and  natural 
step  in  his  development,  looked  on  without  protest. 
To  them  thus  sitting,  Dr.  Bollman  came  forward  for 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  51 

a  word  with  Sandy.  He  stopped  aghast  at  sight  of 
Zach  puffing  his  old  pipe. 

"Bah-h-h!  Vot  you  do  here?  Who  teach  you 
dricks  like  dot,  hein?  Let  me  never  again  catch 
you  at  dot,  or  ve  send  you  home  to  de  mudder  to  be 
spanked!"  saying  which,  he  plucked  the  pipe  from 
Zach's  lips  and  tossed  it  into  the  river. 

Unfortunately,  the  Doctor  himself  was  an  invet- 
erate smoker.  He  was,  indeed,  rarely  seen  without 
his  huge  meerschaum  in  his  mouth.  Knowing  this, 
and  also  knowing  the  place  where  the  pipe  was  kept 
when  not  in  use,  Zach  took  an  instant  and  signal 
revenge.  Springing  to  his  feet  he  hurried  aft, 
seized  from  its  shelf  the  precious  meerschaum,  held 
it  for  an  instant  aloft  in  full  view  of  its  pursuing 
owner,  and  then  threw  it  far  out  into  the  turbid 
stream. 

His  triumph  was  short-lived.  The  next  moment 
he  was  in  the  clutches  of  the  incensed  German,  who, 
after  a  thorough  shaking,  cuffing,  and  buffeting, 
ended  by  hurling  him  violently  to  the  floor. 

There  was  a  murmur  among  the  lookers-on,  who 
doubtless  thought  the  boy's  bones  must  be  broken. 
Great,  therefore,  was  their  amazement  to  see  him 
jump  instantly  to  his  feet,  rush  upon  his  sturdy  an- 
tagonist, kick  him  viciously  in  the  shins,  and  bite 
his  arm  like  an  enraged  beast,  uttering  all  the  time 
a  volley  of  oaths  which  would  have  done  credit  to 
a  past  master  in  profanity.  The  startled  German, 
gathering  all  his  strength,  again  flung  off  his  assail- 
ant, and  looked  about  as  if  for  a  weapon. 

Zach,  meanwhile,  rising  as  before,  was  about  to 


52  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

make  another  rush  upon  his  aggressor,  when  he 
suddenly  stopped  as  if  petrified.  Before  him,  bare- 
headed in  the  doorway,  stood  the  little  silent  man. 
The  stranger  did  not  speak;  he  made  no  move  to 
interfere;  he  only  fixed  upon  the  mutineer  a  pair 
of  glittering  black  eyes.  Zach  had  never  seen  such 
eyes,  —  calm,  penetrating,  masterful  in  their  star- 
tling intelligence,  —  Zach  had  never  before  stood  in 
a  presence  so  imposing.  He  halted,  therefore, 
spell-bound  and  breathless.  In  the  interval,  Dr. 
Bollman  had  time  to  take  thought.  He  broke  out 
violently :  — 

"Here!  Vill  you  come  here,  I  say!"  he  cried 
to  a  couple  of  the  crew  standing  by.  "Take  you 
dis  tarn  biting  leetle  animal,  unt  flog  him  vith  de 
rope-end !  " 

Zach,  still  under  the  influence  of  the  overawing 
stranger,  was  led  away  without  resistance.  He 
scarcely  heeded  the  preparations  made  for  his  pun- 
ishment, until  aroused  by  a  growl  from  Sandy. 
Still  maintaining  his  lounging  position  on  the  deck, 
the  skipper  said  with  a  quiet  drawl :  — 

"I  reckon  ye  'd  better  not  lick  that  boy ! " 

The  men  looked  over  at  the  speaker.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  peaceful  than  his  tone,  yet  one 
would  have  thought  his  hearers  found  in  it  some 
ominous  significance,  for  they  hesitated  and  looked 
blankly  about,  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 

In  the  moment's  interval  a  conference  had  taken 
place  in  the  cabin,  and  presently  came  word  that 
the  punishment  was  remitted.  The  silent  little  man 
had  evidently  interfered ! 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  53 

Who,  then,  was  the  silent  little  man?  They  were 
destined  soon  to  know  more  about  him.  In  fact,  the 
very  next  day,  as  Zach  sat  holding  the  tiller  for 
Sandy,  who  was  splicing  a  rope  near  by,  he  saw  the 
wearer  of  the  slouch  hat  appear  on  deck.  After 
taking  one  or  two  turns  up  and  down  by  himself,  he 
stopped,  and  called  out  several  times :  — 

"Theodosia!" 

A  voice  was  heard  answering  from  within,  and 
presently  the  lady  appeared,  whereupon  the  two 
walked  up  and  down  a  long  time,  earnestly  talking. 
Zach  puzzled  hopelessly  over  their  demeanor,  which 
was  cordial,  familiar,  even  affectionate,  and  marked 
furthermore,  on  the  man's  part,  by  a  solicitude 
shown  in  unconsidered  trifles,  almost  paternal  in  its 
gallantry.  As,  for  instance,  when  the  lady,  touch- 
ing by  accident  a  coil  of  rope,  soiled  her  hand,  her 
companion,  as  if  dealing  with  a  child,  directly  pulled 
forth  his  handkerchief,  wiped  her  hand,  and  threw 
the  handkerchief  away.  Zach  followed  the  move- 
ment of  the  fluttering  bit  of  cambric.  By  chance, 
instead  of  falling  overboard,  it  was  blown  along  the 
deck  to  his  feet.  He  picked  it  up  idly.  It  was  not 
much  soiled  after  all.  Spreading  it  out  on  his  knees 
he  saw  a  name  in  the  corner,  —  a  name  which  he  had 
heard  in  men's  mouths  since  he  could  remember, 
a  name,  too,  which  was  associated  with  something 
great,  but  he  knew  not  whether  for  good  or  evil. 
In  his  bewilderment,  he  stretched  it  out  toward 
Sandy. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  skipper  indifferently. 

"'T  is  his  name." 


54  ZACUAEY  PHIPS. 

"Whose?  " 

"His,"  pointing  to  the  stranger,  still  pacing  the 
deck. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 
"Aaron  Burr." 
"The  Devil!" 

Next  day  the  vessel  made  her  first  landing. 
The  sailing  of  the  expedition  seemed  to  be  no  secret 
in  the  country  at  large,  for  there  was  a  delegation, 
a  dozen  men  or  more,  waiting  to  welcome  them. 
They  came  on  board  the  ark.  Burr  introduced 
them  to  the  lady,  whom  he  called  his  daughter,  and 
ended  by  making  them  a  speech.  Small  in  stature 
as  he  was,  he  somehow  produced  a  grandiose  effect, 
with  his  calm,  stately  bearing,  and  his  grand  ca- 
dences of  voice. 

Zach  listened  eagerly,  but  the  wind  blew  the  speech 
away,  so  that  only  bits  of  it  came  to  him.  Among 
these  fragments  two  words,  or  rather  names,  so  often 
recurred  that  he  learned  them  by  heart:  "  Washita  " 
and  "Blennerhassett."  As  to  these  he  gathered 
vaguely  that  one  stood  for  an  enchanted  island,  where 
the  expedition  was  to  rendezvous  and  gather  re- 
cruits; and  the  other  an  El  Dorado,  where  great 
things  were  to  be  done  and  great  promises  fulfilled, 
where  all  were  to  be  made  rich  and  famous,  and 
revel  in  unconditioned  bliss. 

All  through  the  night  that  speech  rang  in  the 
boy's  ears.  In  dreams  he  heard  again  that  sound- 
ing rhetoric  and  saw  those  gleaming  eyes.  To  him, 
henceforth,  the  expedition  was  invested  with  a  new 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  55 

and  dramatic  interest,  which  centred  in  the  person 
and  doings  of  the  new  leader. 

Nor  was  Zach  the  only  one  bewitched  by  that 
strange,  magnetic  personality.  Hearts  older  and 
wiser  yielded  to  the  spell.  That  very  first  speech, 
indeed,  brought  not  a  few  recruits,  and  the  little 
party  swelled  apace  as  it  floated  on. 

All  pretense  of  mystery,  as  it  seemed,  was  laid 
aside.  There  was  instead  a  sudden  assumption  of 
frankness.  It  was  noised  abroad  that  the  late  Vice- 
President  of  the  United  States  was  making  a  tour 
of  the  Western  States.  Naturally,  attentions  were 
showered  on  him.  Dinners  and  suppers  and  feast- 
ings  and  interchange  of  courtesies  took  place  wher- 
ever they  touched  shore.  On  guarded  occasions  and 
to  special  auditors  there  were  other  speeches,  too, 
through  all  of  which  resounded  those  magic  words 
"Washita"  and  "  Blennerhassett. " 

Again  there  were  scraps  of  talk  which  the  won- 
dering mate  could  by  no  means  make  out,  as  when 
stanch  old  Colonel  Morgan,  at  Cannonsburgh,  came, 
escorting  Burr  and  his  friends  back  to  the  ark  after 
a  supper -party.  Zach,  lying  in  the  shadow  of  the 
cabin,  where  he  had  fallen  asleep  while  keeping 
Sandy  company  on  his  watch,  was  awakened  by 
their  voices. 

"  Growing,  sir, ' '  said  the  Colonel.  "  We  are  grow- 
ing like  a  prairie  fire.  This  is  to  be  the  centre  of 
this  country,  and  by  and  by  we  shall  see  Congress 
sitting  at  Pittsburgh." 

"Then  it  will  be  a  Congress  of  your  own,  for  in 
less  than  five  years  you  will  be  totally  divided  from 
tli3  Atlantic  States." 


56  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

"God  forbid!"  cried  the  old  man,  with  unction. 
"I  hope  such  a  thing  will  never  happen  in  my  day." 

"It  will,  it  must!  What  can  you  expect  of  this 
shilly-shally  administration?  Without  dignity, 
without  intelligence,  without  force,"  -  it  was  Burr 
who  was  speaking.  "Why,  with  two  hundred  men, 
I  could  drive  Congress,  with  your  President  at  its 
head,  into  the  Potomac." 

"What,  what,  sir!" 

"He  is  a  poor  old  granny,  and  his  Cabinet  a 
Dorcas  society." 

"The  country  would  rally  to  his  relief,  granny 
or  no." 

"Not  a  bit;  it  despises  him  and  his  goose-squad- 
ron. 'Kally'?  let  it  rally!  With  five  hundred 
men  I  could  take  New  York  city." 

"I  know  nothing  of  New  York,  but  I  'd  defy  you 
to  take  our  village  with  your  five  hundred  men ! " 
was  the  quick  reply. 

"Perhaps  not."  Burr  forced  a  laugh.  "'T  is 
different  out  here.  But,  Colonel,  we  won't  keep 
you  waiting.  Good-by !  For  this  night's  welcome 
I  rest  your  hermit.  But  think  of  my  words !  Changes 
are  coming.  I  shall  not  forget  you.  Good-by, 
again! " 

"That  brood  is  to  be  mistrusted,"  Dupeister  mut- 
tered, continuing  the  conversation  when  he  and  Burr 
got  on  board  the  ark.  "We  had  better  have  held 
our  tongues." 

"We  can  never  get  on,  Colonel,  by  holding  our 
tongues." 

"But  we  may  set  these  wasps  buzzing." 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  57 

"Let  them  buzz!" 

Long  and  fruitlessly  Zach  pondered  over  this  mid- 
night talk,  and  Sandy's  sententious  comment  on  it 
only  puzzled  him  the  more. 

"Th'  ain't  no  Washita  in  that,  Bub!  " 

But  day  by  4ay,  now,  they  drew  nearer  to  the 
much-talked-of  island.  At  Marietta,  when  almost 
in  sight  of  it,  they  were  delayed  by  a  local  celebra- 
tion. 

Directly  it  was  buzzed  about  that  Aaron  Burr  had 
arrived,  a  crowd  came  thronging  to  the  levee,  and 
the  authorities  sent  to  invite  him  to  take  part  in  the 
festivities.  From  his  cordial  acceptance,  one  might 
have  supposed  he  hailed  the  interruption  as  a  plea- 
sure. He  went  ashore  and  reviewed  the  militia. 
The  men  stared  at  his  knowledge  of  tactics.  With 
Theodosia,  he  attended  the  grand  ball  in  the  even- 
ing. The  women  admired  his  grace,  courtliness, 
and  high-bred  gallantry.  Coming  home,  he  parted 
with  his  escort  in  a  gracious  speech.  Turning  as 
they  withdrew,  he  said  something  in  an  undertone 
to  Dupeister.  Zach  did  not  catch  the  words,  but 
he  long  remembered  and  puzzled  over  the  strange 
smile  on  the  speaker's  face. 

At  early  dawn  they  were  again  on  their  way.  In 
a  couple  of  hours  they  arrived  at  the  junction  of  the 
Ohio  and  the  Kanawha.  There  was  a  shout  from 
the  lookout,  and  all  went  rushing  forward.  With 
a  flutter  in  his  heart,  Zach  stood  in  the  prow  and 
strained  his  eyes  towards  the  long-expected  Eden. 

In  the  glory  of  midsummer  it  rose  before  them :  a 
long  narrow  island,  standing  midstream  of  the  Ohio, 


58  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

crowned  by  some  noble  timber,  and  framed  on  either 
hand  by  the  thickly  wooded  shores  of  the  river.  New 
wonders  unfolded  as  they  advanced.  Endless  care 
and  money  had  been  expended  to  amend  the  wild 
slovenliness  of  nature  by  the  addition  of  some  of  the 
fripperies  of  art :  a  garden  gay  wi*h  flowers,  a  spa- 
cious lawn  adorned  with  shrubberies,  a  dwelling 
grotesque  rather  than  imposing,  suggesting  a  mimic 
basilicon  in  form,  with  its  middle  structure  and  semi- 
circular wings  connected  by  a  corridor. 

Approaching  nearer,  Burr  gave  orders  to  unfurl 
the  pennant  and  fire  a  salute.  Directly  the  compli- 
ment was  returned  from  the  island  by  a  waving  of 
flags  and  an  answering  salvo.  Zach's  breath  came 
quick  and  short  as  they  bore  down  for  the  landing, 
and  such  was  his  agitation  that  he  could  not  join  in 
the  loud  huzzahs  which  went  up  from  the  crew  and 
those  on  shore,  when  Aaron  Burr,  like  a  destroying 
angel,  leaped  ashore  on  the  enchanting  island  of  the 
Blennerhassetts. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ALL  unconscious  as  the  turtle  in  the  market-place 
bearing  on  his  back  the  label  "Soup  To-morrow," 
Harman  Blennerhassett  strode  forward,  that  fair 
summer  evening,  with  a  smile  of  welcome,  to  fold  in 
his  arms  the  man  come  to  work  his  destruction,  — 
the  parallel  is  effective  not  only  as  a  rhetorical  flour- 
ish, but  is  warranted  by  divers  sombre  passages  in 
history.  Of  a  tall,  slender  figure  was  this  island 
king,  with  stooping  shoulders,  a  scholarly  air,  and 
a  certain  aquiline  stateliness  of  feature.  An  occa- 
sional broad  pronunciation  of  a  vowel,  and  a  br-r-r 
among  his  consonants,  bespoke  his  Irish  birth, 
while  his  grave  courtesy  of  mien  told  of  careful  early 
breeding. 

Warned  by  the  twofold  salute  of  the  approach  of 
his  guests,  he  hastened  to  meet  them  at  the  landing. 
Handing  over  their  luggage  to  the  slaves  at  his  heels, 
he  politely  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Alston,  and  thus, 
with  Burr  upon  his  other  side  and  Bollman  and 
Dupeister  bringing  up  the  rear,  he  led  the  way  to 
the  house. 

Arrived  at  the  door,  he  paused.  His  guests  were 
quick  to  take  the  hint;  with  one  accord  they  cried 
out  in  admiration.  It  was  indeed  an  outlook  not  to 
be  neglected.  Before  them,  the  lawn,  dotted  with 
shrubbery,  stretched  away  on  every  hand  to  the 


60  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

water.  Beyond,  the  stream,  widened  by  its  confluent 
branches,  glowed  with  opaline  reflections  from  the 
sunset  clouds.  Farther  away,  at  the  junction  of  the 
rivers,  peeped  from  the  thicket  the  little  village  of 
Parkersburgh ;  while  nearer  at  hand  the  Virginia 
shore  took  on  a  purple  gloom  against  the  violet  splen- 
dor of  the  sky. 

The  pause  following  the  outburst  of  enthusiasm 
from  the  new-comers  was  broken  by  the  sound  of 
horses'  feet. 

"Ah,"  cried  the  host  in  a  tone  of  relief,  "here  in 
good  time  comes  my  better  half,  just  as  I  was  about 
to  make  her  excuses !  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  horse  dashing  at  full  gallop  around 
the  corner  of  the  house  was  reined  up  with  a  vigor- 
ous hand  at  the  very  door,  and  the  next  moment  a 
striking  figure  alighted  with  a  bound  in  the  midst  of 
the  group. 

Dressed  in  a  scarlet  riding-habit  trimmed  with 
gold  lace  and  a  hat  waving  with  ostrich  plumes,  she 
for  a  moment  startled  her  guests  by  the  unexpected 
brilliance  of  her  attire.  With  a  look,  with  a  word, 
however,  she  straightway  subordinated  all  this  finery 
to  its  proper  sphere,  and  irresistibly  fixed  attention 
upon  herself. 

From  many-voiced  tradition  and  from  the  only 
portrait  known  to  exist  of  her,  it  seems  that  Marga- 
ret Blennerhassett  had  a  tall,  supple  figure,  delicate 
features,  brilliant  coloring,  impulsive  manners,  and 
the  air  of  an  enthusiast.  On  the  whole,  making  due 
allowance  for  overwrought  descriptions,  it  is  evident 
that  she  was  a  woman  of  unusual  attractions. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  61 

Directly  upon  her  advent  the  whole  atmosphere 
of  the  party  changed. 

"Ah,  Colonel  Burr,"  —  with  both  hands  out- 
stretched, —  "I  am  indeed  glad  to  see  you.  This  I 
am  sure  is  Mrs.  Alston,"  shaking  hands  with  The- 
odosia.  "Madam,  you  are  long  expected.  Gen- 
tlemen," bowing  in  answer  to  the  introduction  mur- 
mured by  Burr,  "you  are  all  most  heartily  welcome 
to  our  poor  house.  I  am  rejoiced  indeed  to  see  you 
arrived.  'T  was  most  tiresome,  was  it  not,  ma'am, 
the  journey?  I  am  sure  you  are  quite  worn  out. 
By  the  same  token,  as  they  say  in  the  County  Kerry 
where  my  Blennerhassett  was  born,  —  by  the  same 
token,  ma'am,  I  am  going  to  carry  you  off  straight- 
way to  your  room  without  more  ado ;  the  view  will 
wait.  Blennerhassett,  will  you  show  the  gentlemen 
their  quarters,  — the  right  wing,  remember!  Gen- 
tlemen, a  short  toilet  and  small  ceremony,  I  pray,  for 
supper  is  on  the  point  of  being  served.  Shall  we 
go,  ma'am?  Colonel,  your  most  obedient!  " 

Thus  admonished,  the  guests  made  their  dress  as 
simple  as  the  meal  which  followed  proved  informal. 
Lack  of  ceremony,  however,  did  not  prevent  it  from 
beinc:  a  veritable  feast.  The  delicious  food,  after  the 

o  * 

sorry  fare  of  the  wilderness,  was  keenly  relished, 
while  the  cordiality  of  their  welcome  was  irresisti- 
ble. The  last  barriers  of  reserve  natural  among 
strangers  gave  way  before  the  impulsive  attack  of 
the  hostess,  supported  as  it  was  by  the  graceful  ease 
and  mental  resource  of  her  lady  guest. 

Naturally,  the  talk  at  table  was  the  simple  inter- 
change of  civilities  proper  to  the  occasion.  It  was 


62  ZACUABY  PHIPS. 

too  early  yet  for  business,  for  which,  however,  a 
growing  tone  of  fellowship,  becoming  in  those  era- 
barked  in  a  common  cause,  was  fast  ripening  the 
moment. 

Burr,  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  Mrs.  Blenner- 
hassett,  showed  himself  a  master  in  the  art  of  saying 
apt  nothings,  and  deeply  flattered  the  eloquent  lady 
by  an  attention  which  never  lost  a  syllable  that  fell 
from  her  lips.  It  was  only  when  she  turned  to 
bestow  a  word  upon  Bollman  or  Dupeister  that  he 
took  occasion  to  steal  an  inquiring  glance  at  his 
host,  whose  air  of  reserve  rendered  him  a  more 
baffling  subject  for  analysis  than  his  outspoken 
wife.  As  the  event  proved,  no  moment  of  opportu- 
nity was  lost  by  the  watchful  guest,  during  that  first 
tumultuous  informal  evening,  for  studying  close  at 
hand  the  widely  differing  types  of  character  of  this 
man  and  woman  on  whom  the  success  or  failure  of 
his  undertaking  so  much  depended. 

Left  to  their  wine,  the  men  lost  something  of  their 
ease.  The  conversation  so  perceptibly  languished 
that  Burr  perforce  had  to  come  to  the  front.  In- 
deed, so  soon  as  the  need  was  apparent,  he  showed 
no  hesitation,  but  led  the  talk  with  the  practiced 
ease  of  a  veteran  tried  in  many  fields  of  thought  and 
action,  —  the  bar,  the  camp,  the  rostrum,  and  the 
senate.  If  he  knew  how  to  talk,  however,  he  also, 
as  it  appeared,  knew  when  to  forbear.  There  were 
more  serious  objects  in  view  than  shining  as  a  ta- 
ble-talker. His  host  was  still  on  guard.  Having, 
therefore,  fairly  opened  the  ball,  he  set  the  Doctor 
astride  his  hobby  and  gave  him  the  floor.  The  word 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  63 

tyranny  and  its  various  synonyms  were  like  so  many 
red  rags  to  the  German  doctrinaire.  Artfully  shak- 
ing one  of  these  rags  in  the  phrase  "intellectual 
oppression,"  Burr  stepped  aside.  Breathing  defi- 
ance, the  unsuspecting  Doctor  sprang  into  the  field, 
and  held  it  against  all  comers  to  the  end.  Hap- 
pily, it  seemed  to  make  no  difference  to  him  that 
nobody  heeded,  understood  his  parallel  between 
Martin  Luther  and  Descartes,  or  had  ever  heard  of 
"Wilhelm  Meister,"  the  book  which  he  praised  so 
extravagantly  as  marking  an  epoch  in  literary  free- 
dom. Although  Burr  alone  listened  with  an  air  of 
attention,  he  made  poor  work  of  disguising  a  look  of 
relief  when,  at  the  end  of  a  long  period,  Blenner- 
hassett,  rising,  gave  the  signal  to  join  the  ladies. 

The  ladies,  seated  outside  on  the  gallery,  were 
eagerly  awaiting  them.  Directly  a  new  interest  was 
infused  into  the  conversation;  for  hardly  were  all 
comfortably  settled  in  their  seats  than,  with  charac- 
teristic impulsiveness,  the  hostess  broached  the  topic 
uppermost  in  all  their  minds. 

"Do  tell  us,  sir,"  to  Burr,  seated  at  her  side. 
"We  are  dying  to  know.  What  are  your  plans? 
Surely  there  need  be  no  secrets  here,  for  we  are  all 
embarked  in  the  same  boat,  —  but  I  see  I  am  med- 
dling. Blennerhassett  is  shaking  his  head." 

"Do  not  regard  him,  ma'am!  Such  meddling 
will  always  be  most  welcome." 

"But  I  fear  me  he  is  right.  'T  is  already  late. 
You  are  tired.  'T  was  most  stupid  and  ill-timed  of 
me.  Come,  I  have  a  better  idea  already.  Blenner- 
hassett shall  give  you  a  squint  at  the  stars.  'T  is 


64  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

worth  your  while,  too,  I  give  you  my  word,  for  he 
has  the  finest  telescope  in  the  country,  which,  to  be 
sure,  is  not  saying  so  very  much  after  all." 

But  Burr,  glancing  keenly  from  man  to  wife, 
chose  for  some  reason  not  to  avail  himself  of  the 
proposed  diversion. 

"Pardon,  madam,  the  stars  are  not  like  to  run 
away.  Business  first,  —  the  adage  is  musty.  You 
ask  about  my  plans?" 

"Since  you  are  resolved  to  indulge  me,  yes.  But 
indeed,  I  feel  quite  like  a  child  to  be  so  precipitate. 
You  may  see  me  blushing.  However,  since  you  are 
listening  in  good  earnest,  you  must  know,  sir,  we 
are  as  yet  quite  at  sea.  We  know  nothing  at  all 
definite.  We  have  only  heard  generally  that  there 
is  somewhere  —  I  declare  to  you  I  have  n't  the  least 
notion  at  what  point  of  the  compass  —  this  won- 
drous El  Dorado.  That  is  all.  At  last  accounts 
nothing  had  been  done,  nothing  decided  upon." 

"The  reproach  is  just.  The  fault  was  my  own. 
Pardon  me  that  I  have  been  so  remiss.  I  am  happy 
to  say  that  latterly  we  have  made  great  progress. 
Now  everything  is  decided  on,  and  much  has  been 
done.  The  Washita  tract  is  secured !  " 

"  Pray  you  now,  sir,  spell  me  that  name ! " 

Burr  gravely  complied. 

"The  land  is  fairly  bought,  do  you  say?"  asked 
the  host,  in  evident  astonishment. 

"Bought, "repeated  Burr  emphatically,  "and  part 
of  the  money  paid  down  !  " 

"So!"  muttered  Blennerhassett,  with  a  notice- 
able change  of  tone;  "then  the  whole  matter  as- 
sumes at  once  a  more  practical  look." 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  65 

"By  which  I  fear  you  have  hitherto  thought  it 
Utopian,"  said  Theodosia,  a  little  archly. 

"Right,  ma'am,  and  so  he  did,"  interjoined  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett,  leaning  across;  "he  has  been  as  full 
of  doubts  as  an  egg  is  of  meat.  But  I  beg  you  now 
go  on,  sir,"  turning  to  Burr.  "Give  us  some  de- 
scription of  this  place!  'Tis  in  the  far  wilderness, 
they  say." 

"Far  enough,  never  fear,"  laughed  her  husband. 

"  So  much  the  better.  Was  not  this  a  wilderness 
when  we  came  hither?  and  now  'tis  a  paradise." 

"Ay,"  assented  Blennerhassett,  with  a  touch  of 
bitterness,  "and  the  best  part  of  our  fortune  went 
to  make  the  transformation." 

"True,"  with  a  passing  sigh;  "but  you  must  know 
we  were  babes  in  the  wood  then,  ma'am,"  turning 
to  Theodosia. 

"And  what  wonder,"  broke  in  Dupeister.  "You 
have  surrounded  yourselves  here  with  the  luxury  of 
the  Grand  Turk." 

"Which  you  will  find,  after  tarrying  here  a  bit, 
comes  not  amiss,"  rejoined  Blennerhassett.  "I 
cannot  find  we  have  a  comfort  too  many." 

"Ah,  but  such  money  squandered  on  senseless 
trifles,"  whispered  Mrs.  Blennerhassett  aside  to  The- 
odosia, "and  much  of  it  my  own  fault,  too,  I  con- 
fess; but,"  aloud  to  Burr,  "for  this  tract,  sir,  where 
is  it?" 

"  Bring  forth  your  map,  Bollman !  The  Doctor, 
ma'am,  will  show  you.  He  is  our  cartologist. " 

Thereupon,  nothing  loath,  Doctor  Bollman  brought 
forth  a  roll  of  maps  and  plans. 


66  ZACIIARY  PI1IPS. 

"First  and  foremost,  what  access  have  we  to  the 
sea?"  asked  Blennerhassett,  blinking  in  short- 
sighted helplessness  over  the  Doctor's  shoulder  at 
the  remote  map. 

"'Access'!  noding  better,"  cried  Bollman  en- 
thusiastically. "Ve  shmell  almost  de  salt  vater. 
See !  Look  for  yourself s !  De  Vashita  empty  into 
de  Red  River,  de  Red  empty  into  de  Mississippee, 
de  Mississippee  into  de  Golf." 

"And  the  tract,  the  land,  where  is  it?  " 

"Here,  shust  here,  vere  you  see  my  finger!  Four 
hundert  tousand  acre.  Plantations  for  all,  unt  so 
many  more  as  vill  come,  see?  " 

"And 'tis  already  ours?"  asked  Mrs.  Blenner- 
hassett in  a  breathless  voice. 

Burr  turned  his  watchful  eyes  upon  her  with  a 
look  of  profound  gratitude.  Her  tone  was  worth  a 
folio  of  argument. 

"Ours,  madam,"  he  answered,  with  effective  re- 
serve; "the  bargain  is  made  and  the  earnest  money 
paid.  A  feature  not  to  be  overlooked  in  the  mat- 
ter," he  continued,  flashing  a  covert  glance  at  his 
skeptical  host,  "is  our  neighborhood  to  the  great 
market  of  New  Orleans,  and  through  that  to  the 
Antilles,  and  so  on  to  Europe  and  the  world." 

Blennerhassett  bowed  with  a  non-committal  air. 

"Success  is  but  a  matter  of  a  few  years,"  went 
on  Burr,  quietly. 

"Then  gold,  money  —  reeches,"  broke  in  the  Doc- 
tor. 

Burr  submitted  to  the  interruption  with  a  look  of 
gratitude. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  67 

"We  '11  found  a  city  on  the  spot  !"  suggested 
Dupeister. 

"And  call  it  Theodosia,"  added  Mrs.  Blenner- 
hassett  quickly. 

Mrs.  Alston  smiled  her  thanks  for  this  pretty 
compliment,  as  with  a  wave  of  her  hand  she  recalled 
attention  to  the  map. 

The  lesson  in  geography  lasted  all  the  evening, 
Bollman's  elocution  being  supplemented  by  occa- 
sional statements  from  Burr,  which  although  thrown 
in,  as  it  seemed,  casually,  never  failed  of  effect. 
With  two  such  masters,  the  lesson  proved  deeply 
interesting.  Not  even  the  dullest  could  fail  to  com- 
prehend anything  so  clear.  In  the  cross-fire  of 
questions  and  suggestions  growing  out  of  it,  in  the 
formulation  all  about  him  of  golden  fancies,  plans, 
and  hopes,  it  was  noted  that  the  host  himself  was 
gradually  drawn  from  his  conservative  standpoint  to 
a  pitch  of  modified  but  appreciable  zeal. 

With  a  scarcely  suppressed  sigh  of  relief,  Burr 
rose  from  the  table  and  bowed  low  over  the  hand  of 
his  hostess  as,  with  an  impressive  air,  he  bade  her 
good-night.  The  evening  had  not  been  lost. 

Next  day,  the  Doctor's  first  care  was  to  attend  to 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  expedition.  The  negroes 
were  sent  to  find  lodgings  in  the  slave-quarters  on 
the  island,  while  the  white  recruits  were  bestowed  in 
an  outhouse  hastily  fitted  up  as  a  barrack  for  their 
accommodation.  Zach  and  Sandy,  upon  their  own 
solicitation,  were  left  to  take -charge  of  the  boat. 


68  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

Nothing  more  to  their  liking  could  have  been 
devised.  The  ark  had  already  begun  to  seem  like 
home.  Moreover,  having  it  all  to  themselves  com- 
pleted the  charm;  with  little  to  do  and  plenty  to 
eat,  with  opportunity  for  rambles  at  will  about  the 
island,  liberty >>  fish  and  swim  in  the  river,  there 
seemed  nothing  wanting  to  their  physical  content. 
Here,  moreover,  Zach  seems  finally  to  have  shaken 
off  his  dread  of  the  pursuing  wrath  of  Master  Tile- 
ston  and  Marm  Dinely,  and  much  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  no  shadow  of  remorse  on  their  account  clouded 
for  an  instant  the  serene  conscience  of  the  junior 
officer  of  the  Bouncing  Bet. 

In  their  comings  and  goings,  however,  the  skip- 
per and  his  little  mate  soon  became  aware  of  some 
unusual  movement  on  the  island.  They  noted  a 
constant  bustle  about  the  mansion;  they  heard  in- 
explicable sounds  by  night  which  set  the  hounds 
baying  and  awakened  loud  echoes  among  the  neigh- 
boring hills;  they  felt  a  stir  in  the  very  air.  Not 
the  least  notable  of  their  observations  was  the  fact 
that  Burr  himself  seemed  ceaselessly  on  the  wing. 
Up  and  away  before  dawn,  he  was  absent  for  days 
at  a  time,  returning  covered  with  dust  or  splashed 
with  mud ;  but  for  all  the  jaded  lines  in  his  face, 
wearing  always  the  same  calm,  triumphant  look. 

It  fell  to  Zach  once  to  row  the  great  man  over 
from  the  mainland.  Hearing  the  familiar  signal  in 
Sandy's  absence,  he  had  hastened  to  fill  his  place. 
As  soon  as  the  boat  touched  the  shelving  muddy 
bank,  the  passenger  leaped  aboard  and  placed  him- 
self in  the  stern,  without  heeding  who  was  at  the 


ZACIIAEY  PHIPS.  69 

oars.  Seated  upright  with  folded  arms,  his  trim, 
military  figure  outlined  against  the  evening  sky,  his 
brilliant  eyes  gleaming  through  the  gathering  dusk, 
he  filled  the  wondering  ferryman  with  such  awe  or 
admiration  that,  forgetting  his  business,  he  heed- 
lessly lost  overboard  one  of  his  oars.  Ashamed  of 
such  clumsiness,  he  incontinently  leaped  after  it,  not 
counting  on  the  midstream  force  of  the  current. 

Burr,  aroused  from  his  reverie,  promptly  came  to 
the  rescue,  and  having  picked  up  the  floundering 
ferryman  and  recovered  the  oar,  himself  rowed  the 
boat  ashore. 

The  incident,  slight  as  it  was,  proved  memorable 
to  Zach  for  more  reasons  than  one,  for  when  they 
had  landed,  the  passenger,  drawing  a  silver  piece 
from  his  pocket,  gave  it  to  the  little  blunderer,  at 
the  same  time  carelessly  asking  his  name. 

Zach  answered,  blushing  deeply. 

The  name  seemed  to  awaken  a  remembrance. 
Burr,  about  to  go,  turned  and  cast  an  inquiring 
look  at  the  speaker. 

"What,  are  you  the  imp  that  threw  away  the 
Doctor's  pipe?  " 

"Yeah,"  faltered  the  abashed  mate. 

"Humph!  Yes,  I  remember  now,"  studying  at- 
tentively the  downcast  face.  "So  Zach 's  your 
name,  is  it?  Well,  Zach,  you  're  the  kind  of  a  boy 
I  like.  Some  day  I  shall  have  work  for  you!  " 

Meanwhile  the  fame  of  the  expedition  had  been 
noised  abroad  to  such  good  effect  that  a  steady 
stream  of  recruits  came  pouring  in.  The  barracks 
had  to  be  enlarged  and  others  built.  These  new  men 


70  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

were  speedily  equipped  and  exercised  in  military 
tactics  by  Colonel  Dupeister,  and  the  whole  island 
resounded  with  preparation. 

What  with  all  this  moving  of  men  and  things  the 
Bouncing  Bet  was  naturally  called  into  requisition. 
Having  been  fitted  with  a  pair  of  long  sweeps  or 
oars,  one  day,  as  it  happened,  she  was  dispatched 
to  bring  a  load  of  supplies  from  Marietta.  There 
Zach,  having  been  sent  ashore  to  notify  Blennerhas- 
sett's  agent  of  their  arrival,  presently  came  flying 
back  with  some  startling  news,  to  wit,  that  fifteen 
large  batteaux,  capable  of  carrying  five  hundred 
men,  were  building  in  the  neighboring  ship-yard  for 
the  Washita  expedition. 

"Wall!"  said  Sandy,  suppressing  any  show  of 
surprise,  "it's  time  they  was  doin'  sunthin'.  I'll 
tell  ye  another  thing,  Bub.  Them  boxes  the  niggers 
are  wheelin'  aboard  of  us  now  are  full  o'  shootin' 
irons  for  the  same  business." 

"Guns?" 

"Yeah." 

"  Is  there  goin  to  be  shootin',  Sandy?  "  asked  Zach 
breathlessly,  the  possibility  of  a  serious  intent  in 
all  this  military  bustle  just  dawning  on  him. 

"1  reckon  ther  is,  Bub." 

"Who  be  we  goin'  to  fight?  " 

"Redskins,  an'  them  cut-throat  Mexicans,  mos' 
likely." 

"  P'raps  they  would  n't  touch  us,"  suggested  Zach, 
with  a  boy's  primitive  logic. 

"Wall,  we'd  touch  them  all  the  same,"  retorted 
Sandy,  with  a  belligerent  chuckle.  "They  got  to 
be  killed,  V  the  quicker  the  better." 


ZACHARY  PHI  PS.  71 

"But  p'raps  this  is  their  own  land,  an'  then  we 
hain't  any  right  to  it,"  objected  Zach  with  juvenile 
perversity. 

"'Right ' !  Wot  right  have  them  snakes  an'  rep- 
tyles  got  to  land?  "  asked  Sandy  from  a  good  ortho- 
dox standpoint.  "They  ain't  fit  to  hev  it.  They 
don't  know  wot  to  do  with  it,  'n'  the  only  way  is  to 
kill  'em  in  the  beginning  an'  save  ourselves  bother 
in  the  end." 

Zach  studied  the  speaker's  serene  face,  and  pon- 
dered long  over  this  bloodthirsty  doctrine.  Planted 
in  a  soil  so  receptive,  what  noxious  after-growth  of 
action  and  sentiment  may  this  seed  not  have  engen- 
dered ! 

The  news  Zach  brought  proved  well-founded  and 
significant.  The  old  peaceful  times  for  him  and 
Sandy  were  over.  Thenceforward,  as  the  ranks  of 
the  expedition  swelled,  and  the  buzz  of  preparation 
grew  louder,  the  island  became  like  a  big  swarming 
beehive.  In  the  increasing  need  for  communica- 
tion with  the  main  land,  Bouncing  Bet  was  called 
constantly  into  action  and  her  officers  kept  busy. 
When  not  navigating  the  ark,  they  were  employed 
on  shore.  In  frequent  errands  hither  and  thither 
about  the  island,  they  saw  much  to  puzzle  them 
which  nobody  seemed  able  or  willing  to  explain. 

Perceptibly  there  brooded  over  all  a  portentous 
air  as  of  the  onmoving  of  some  great  dramatic  action. 
Thought  and  effort  were  directed  to  one  point. 
Though  so  little  seen,  a  calm,  masterful,  directing 
hand  was  everywhere  felt.  To  each  one  was  assigned 
his  duty.  Blennerhassett,  seated  at  his  desk  from 


72  ZACHASY  PHIPS. 

morning  till  night,  wrote  articles  for  the  newspapers 
to  stir  up  the  people.  Bollman  collected  arms  and 
stores.  Dupeister  drilled  the  men,  while  the  hostess, 
with  tireless  energy,  seemed  forever  flying  about,  in- 
citing, encouraging,  and  helping  at  every  point. 

Zach  forgot  his  errands  whenever  she  appeared. 
She  was  a  character  quite  new  to  his  experience.  He 
stood  aside  and  gaped  in  amazement  to  see  her  come 
flying  over  the  fields  by  the  shortest  cut,  jumping 
her  horse  over  fences  and  ditches  as  she  swept  along. 
It  never  occurred  to  him  as  possible  that  he  might 
make  her  acquaintance,  and  he  was  almost  overpow- 
ered when,  one  day,  in  going  her  rounds,  she  came 
to  make  a  personal  inspection  of  the  Bouncing  Bet. 
Turning  to  go,  after  an  examination  of  the  vessel, 
she  encountered  the  second  officer. 

"Mercy  upon  me!  whose  child  is  this?  Where 
did  you  come  from,  little  boy?" 

Zach  was  quite  too  much  taken  aback  to  speak. 

"Where  is  your  mother?  " 

"Ain't  got  any,"  he  faintly  faltered. 

"Poor  child !     But  what  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"I  'm  the  mate." 

"What  does  he  mean?  "  with  a  glance  at  Sandy. 

"Jes'  wot  he  says,  m'm;  he's  all  the  mate  ther 
is!" 

"How  came  he  here?" 

"Shipped  for  the  cruise  along  o'  me." 

"You  're  his  father,  or  "  — 

"No  m'm;  nothin'  to  him  at  all." 

" I  never  heard  anything  so  extraordinary.  Why," 
turning  to  Zach,  "you  can't  be  ten  years  old  yet!  " 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  73 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"No  older  than  my  own  Ilarman,  and  away  from 
your  .home  on  this  terrible  —  er  —  this  perilous  busi- 
ness. What  will  become  of  you? " 

"Never  you  fret  'bout  him,  m'm!  He  ain't 
goin'  to  wilt  or  blow  away.  I  fetched  him  along, 
an'  I  '11  keep  an  eye  on  him!  " 

"  Do !  do,  my  friend !  a  constant  eye.  There  may 
be  dangers  in  store  for  him  —  for  us  all.  And  you, 
dear  child,  if  anything  happens,  if  you  are  ever  in 
need  of  a  friend,  come  to  me!  I,  too,  am  going 
on  the  expedition.  Come  to  Margaret  Blennerhas- 
sett,  and  you  shall  find  one!"  and  stooping,  as  she 
spoke,  she  imprinted  a  warm,  motherly  kiss  on  the 
sunburnt  cheek  of  the  astonished  boy. 

Zach  started;  he  had  never  been  kissed  before, 
and  the  caress  affected  him  like  an  electric  shock. 
He  turned  and  looked  after  the  impulsive  woman, 
and  not  even  the  halo  and  the  wild-goose  wings  of 
the  conventional  angel  could  have  invested  her  with 
a  more  glorified  atmosphere  than  that  which,  to 
Zach's  blurred  vision,  glowed  about  her  as  she 
walked  away. 

Sandy  did  not  leave  him  long  to  his  medita- 
tions. The  skipper  had  a  new  distraction.  On  his 
last  trip  up  to  the  house,  he  had  brought  back  a 
newspaper  which,  they  told  him,  contained  one  of 
Blennerhassett's  articles.  Here,  then,  it  would  all 
be  explained ;  here  the  mystery  at  last  be  made  clear. 
Coming  forward  with  the  paper  in  his  hand,  he 
eagerly  called  on  his  mate  to  read  it  aloud. 

Zach  read  the  article   mechanically,  and  repeated 


74  ZACHAEY  mips. 

parts  of  it  more  deliberately  at  Sandy's  request. 
Pondering  the  matter  a  long  time  over  his  pipe,  the 
skipper  at  last  broke  out :  — 

"Washita!  humph!  Wall,  now,  that  may  do  to 
talk  to  folks  out  here,  but  it  don't  fool  me  a  mite." 

"Eh!  "  ejaculated  the  reader,  awaking  to  the  fact 
that  something  startling  had  been  said. 

"Ef  we  're  on'y  jes'  goin'  down  there  to  take 
possession  of  some  land  we  bought,  an'  lick  a  few 
redskins,  wot  do  we  want  o'  all  these  guns  an'  pow- 
der, an'  all  this  muster  business?  /  don't  see, 
'less  "  Here  he  took  out  his  pipe  and  squinted 
at  the  toe  of  his  boot. 

"What?  "  asked  Zach,  now  thoroughly  aroused. 

"Unless  there  's  a  rat  in  the  meal!  " 

"  *  A  rat,'  "  repeated  Zach,  unacquainted  with  the 
adage.  "What  do  you  mean,  Sandy?  " 

The  wondering,  excited  look  in  his  listener's  eyes 
aroused  Sandy's  caution.  He  mused  a  minute,  then 
abruptly  changed  the  subject. 

"They  say  them  boats  up  to  Marietta  are  mos' 
ready,  Bub ! " 

Directly  Zach  swallowed  the  bait.  This  was  the 
subject  of  all  others  in  which  he  was  most  deeply 
interested. 

"Yes, "he  cried  eagerly.  "An'  I  heard  the  Doc- 
tor talkin'  to  Colonel  Dupeister  this  mornin'  'bout 
a  lot  more  boats  bein'  built  on  another  river." 

"Where?" 

"In  Tennessee." 

"Humph!  an'  all  bound  for  this  'ere  Washita," 
interposed  Sandy,  with  a  strange  intonation. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  75 

"An'  they  say  that 's  what  the  —  what  he  is  gone 
off  for." 

"Wot?" 

"To  git  men  for  'em." 

"Wher 'she  gone?" 

"The  Doctor  says  he  's  gone  to  see  General  Jack- 
son." 

The  skipper  sat  bolt  upright  and  whistled. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Wot  is  it,  young  un?  It  's  this:  if  Old  Hick- 
ory gits  a  finger  in  this  pie,  he  '11  make  hell  smoke !  " 

As  all  the  world  now  knows,  Old  Hickory  did  get 
a  finger  in  the  pie,  —  a  most  incautious,  blundering 
finger.  Rumors  came  flying  back  to  the  island  that 
he  was  hand  and  glove  with  Burr,  and  that  the 
beauty  and  chivalry  of  the  state  vied  with  each  other 
in  doing  honor  to  their  illustrious  visitor  in  every 
form  of  social  homage. 

What  wonder  that  hearts  swelled  and  hopes  burned 
high  among  his  associates  on  the  island!  Strange 
to  say,  amidst  it  all  there  came  a  lull  in  their  prepa- 
rations. For  a  few  days  all  seemed  at  a  standstill. 
There  was  much  whispering  and  buzzing  up  at  the 
mansion,  and  Mrs.  Blennerhassett  was  seen  to  spend 
a  whole  morning  walking  up  and  down  among  the 
shrubbery  in  a  retired  part  of  the  lawn,  arguing,  as 
it  seemed,  and  pleading  with  her  husband,  while 
Bollman  and  Dupeister  sat  on  the  gallery  anxiously 
awaiting  the  result. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  subject  of  their  dis- 
cussion, the  result  was  that  next  day  a  lawyer  was 
sent  for,  and  some  merchants  from  Marietta,  and 


7G  ZACIIARY  PHI  PS. 

papers  were  drawn  up  and  signed,  in  which  the  lady 
and  her  husband  took  part. 

"It 's money  —  money,"  said  Sandy,  coming  home 
after  a  visit  to  the  mansion,  with  a  dubious  look. 
"They  'd  run  out;  they  could  n't  go  on,  an'  they 
got  the  Square  there  to  raise  it  on  his  land.  They 
say  he  's  signed  away  everythin',  an'  she  too." 

The  event  proved  the  shrewdness  of  Sandy's 
guess.  Next  morning  work  was  resumed,  and  prep- 
arations pushed  for  getting  the  expedition  speedily 
under  way. 

Presently,  however,  a  new  spirit  began  to  appear, 
a  spirit  of  caution  and  secrecy.  There  came  a  re- 
port that  the  United  States  Government  was  becom- 
ing suspicious,  and  purposed  inquiring  into  the 
object  of  the  expedition. 

Directly  the  leaders  took  alarm.  They  sent  secret 
orders  for  the  batteaux,  ready  or  not,  to  repair  forth- 
with to  the  island.  The  order  came  a  day  too  late. 
The  batteaux  had  been  already  seized.  Before  the 
islanders  had  recovered  from  the  shock  caused  by 
this  blow,  came  the  startling  news  that  the  President 
had  issued  a  proclamation  against  the  Washita  ex- 
pedition, and  that  a  squad  of  Virginia  militia  was 
actually  on  its  way  to  invade  the  island. 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  panic,  followed  by  the 
prompt  resolution  to  hurry  their  little  army  aboard 
the  few  available  boats  and  be  off. 

Night  was  already  falling,  and  the  darkness  fa- 
vored their  purpose.  Despite  all  haste,  several  hours 
elapsed  before  the  stores  and  men  were  duly  em- 
barked. At  last  all  was  in  readiness.  The  Bonn- 


Z AC II ART  PI1IPS.  11 

cing  Bet  was  to  take  the  lead,  and  Sandy  stood  wait- 
ing for  orders. 

But  orders  did  not  come.  There  was  an  inexpli- 
cable delay.  As  precious  time  was  flying,  Zach  was 
posted  off  to  the  mansion  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

Finding  the  doors  open,  he  walked  in.  Listening, 
he  heard  a  murmur  of  voices.  Following  the  sound, 
he  made  his  way  to  the  drawing-room,  where  he 
came  upon  the  whole  party  with  their  hats  and  cloaks 
on.  He  delivered  his  message  to  deaf  ears.  He 
repeated  it  without  effect.  Nobody  heeded  him. 
The  occupants  of  the  room,  one  and  all,  were  gath- 
ered about  the  master  of  the  house,  who  listened  with 
a  dogged  air  to  their  excited  entreaties. 

"  Why,  why,  —  give  some  reason  for  this  change 
of  mind  !  "  cried  one. 

"  'T  is  a  strange  time  to  withdraw,  now  at  the 
eleventh  hour!  "  urged  another. 

"Think,"  pleaded  his  wife,  "if  you  desert,  it 
means  destruction  to  the  cause." 

"Be  it  so,"  answered  Blennerhassett  sternly. 
"  Wife,  we  have  been  cheated  and  played  upon.  We 
were  fools  to  listen  to  that  man.  We  have  lost  all, 
everything.  Ruin  stares  us  in  the  face.  This  he 
would  lead  us  into  is  treason!  " 

"  '  Treason ' !  "  faltered  Mrs.  Blennerhassett. ' 

"  '  Dreason' !  "  echoed  Dr.  Bollman  contempts 
ously,  "vat,  den,  ees  dreason?  It  ees  to  be  a  man, 
to  go  vere  you  vill,  to  do  vat  you  like,  to  deny  to 
bow  de  neck  to  dose  fools  yonder  you  call  de  gov- 
ernment! Dreason!  Bah-h!  Vere,  dell  me,  my 
fren',  vould  be  dees  contree,'  dis  Ahmerica,  if  long 


78  ZACHAKY   I'll  IPS. 

ago  some  ones  dare  not  do  dreason  to  de  British 
tyrant,  hem?" 

"To  stop  now  is  madness,"  Mrs.  Blennerhassett 
interposed;  "now,  when  you  are  in  very  sight  of 
the  goal.  It  is  to  prefer  failure  to  success,  defeat 
to  victory.  Worse:  it  is  to  choose  ruin.  Yes, 
ruin.  We  have  embarked  aD  in  this  cause.  We 
cannot  turn  back.  We  have  nothing  to  turn  to. 
We  are  bankrupt !  " 

BlAmerhassett  groaned. 

"Harman,  Harman,"  continued  his  wife,  in  a 
fresh  burst  of  enthusiasm,  "  think  of  me !  Think  of 
your  children !  Up  and  away  while  time  is  left  you  ! 
Leave  this  wilderness  behind !  Away  to  a  brighter 
sky,  to  a  more  fertile  soil !  Away  to  those  vast  pla- 
teaux in  that  sunny  land  which  await  your  plough- 
share !  A  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  —  the 
land  of  the  citron  and  the  vine,  the  land  of  gold, 
the  land  of  fortune  and  success !  On !  On,  then ! 
Why  sit  you  here?  On  to  the  Imperial  City,  to 
the  metropolis  of  the  dazzling  empire  of  the  new 
world!" 

The  listener  shook  his  head  as  before. 

"Listen,  Harman!  "  the  speaker's  eyes  glowed 
with  excitement,  her  rich  voice  rose  in  wild  and 
thrilling  modulations.  "Listen,  I  say!  Eight 
years  ago  we  left  England,  unknown  adventurers. 
Shall  we  remain  unknown  to  the  end  of  time  ?  No ! 
no!  and  again,  no!  The  time  draws  on  when  we 
shall  return  in  triumph,  the  proud  representatives  of 
a  great  empire,  half  a  continent  filled  with  millions 
of  happy,  devoted  subjects ;  and  on  your  arm  I,  - 


ZACHARY  PHI  PS.  79 

I,  dearest,  the  sharer  of  your  trial  and  privation, 
shall  be  the  witness  and  partner  of  your  triumph  !  " 

A  clock  struck  upon  the  mantelpiece. 

"Hark!  do  you  hear?  Time  is  flying,  precious 
time,  —  time  never  to  be  recalled !  Go,  Harman ! 
Go,  my  husband !  Wait  not  for  me  and  the  chil- 
dren !  Leave  us  behind !  They  dare  not  molest  the 
mother  and  her  innocents.  We  shall  follow,  never 
fear.  We  shall  meet  soon,  —  very  soon,  where  they 
dare  not  pursue." 

A  noise  was  heard  outside  on  the  gallery.  All 
started.  Blennerhassett  rose  to  his  feet.  A  slave 
came  rushing  in  to  say  that  the  soldiers  were  clam- 
oring for  orders.  Zach,  standing  open  -  mouthed 
near  the  door,  remembered  his  forgotten  errand. 
Fearful  that  the  Bouncing  Bet  might  sail  away  and 
leave  him,  he  hurried  back  to  the  landing. 

The  group  in  the  drawing-room  slowly  followed. 
Folding  a  long  cloak  about  her  shoulders,  half -lead- 
ing, half-propelling  her  doubting  husband,  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett  took  her  way  with  the  rest  to  the 
river. 

It  was  a  lowering  night.  Deep  snow  covered  the 
ground.  A  piercing  wind  sweeping  down  the  long 
reaches  of  the  river  made  the  biting  cold  almost  un- 
bearable. The  impatient  soldiers  had  kindled  a 
bonfire  on  the  shore.  Some  of  the  leading  spirits 
were  gathered  about  it.  Dupeister,  Bollman,  and 
the  Blennerhassetts  joined  the  group  for  consultation. 
Standing  thus,  their  forms  projected  against  the 
bright  firelight  cast  long,  spectral  shadows  over  the 
untrodden  snow  of  the  lawn.  Another  shadow,  un- 


80  z  A  CHARY  mips. 

expected  and  unwelcome,  presently  joined  the  group, 
—  a  shadow  which  emerged  without  warning  from 
the  outer  darkness,  and  laying  hands  on  one  of 
their  number,  cried :  — 

"I  arrest  you,  Harman  Blennerhassett,  in  the 
name  and  by  the  authority  of  the  State  of  Ohio!  " 

There  was  a  moment  of  inaction.  Then  the  muz- 
zles of  a  half -score  muskets  bristled  before  the  bold 
intruder's  eyes. 

"Forbear,  men!  forbear!" 

The  calm  tones  were  recognized.  It  was  General 
Tupper,  the  best-known  man  in  all  Ohio.  A  mo- 
mentary silence  which  ensued  was  broken  by  a  de- 
termined voice,  — 

"  By  Gott,  but  ve  vill  not  forbear !  Take  heed  to 
yourself,  old  man !  Ve  shoot  down  like  a  dog  any- 
pody  dot  stand  in  de  vay !  " 

The  seasoned  veteran  recognized  the  ring  of  re- 
solve in  that  answer,  and  stood  aside  without  a  word. 

Was  this  action  accepted  as  an  augury  by  the 
wavering  mind  of  Harman  Blennerhassett?  Who 
can  say?  Pushed  on,  as  it  seemed,  by  fate,  in  that 
brief  passing  moment  he  made  his  choice,  returned 
mechanically  his  wife's  ardent  embrace,  filed  on 
board  the  waiting  vessel  in  the  wake  of  his  com- 
rades, and  sailed  away  forever  from  his  island  home. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  die  was  cast.  Under  cover  of  night  the 
Bouncing  Bet  and  her  three  convoys  put  forth  on 
the  turbulent  river.  The  great  expedition  was  at 
last  under  way.  To  go  where?  To  do  what? 
Never  a  man  of  them  could  say.  The  midnight  sky 
was  not  more  densely  veiled  from  their  sight  than 
this  comfortable  knowledge  from  their  understand- 
ing. Qualms,  doubts,  and  scruples,  like  a  cloud  of 
bats,  followed  them  on  their  darkling  course,  which, 
be  it  said,  bristled  with  other  perils  than  snags  and 
sandbars. 

Bollman  and  Dupeister,  however,  were  no  dull- 
ards. They  had  noted  Tupper's  manner.  He  had 
let  them  off  too  easily.  Directly  they  were  clear  of 
the  island,  therefore,  they  called  a  council  of  war 
and  passed  along  the  warning  for  the  crews  to  be 
011  their  guard. 

Their  suspicions,  as  it  turned  out,  were  justified. 
The  wily  veteran  had  indeed  another  string  to  his 
bow.  A  few  miles  down  the  river,  that  very  minute, 
a  company  of  Virginia  militia  were  mustering  upon 
a  convenient  headland  to  intercept  them. 

Luckily  for  the  fugitives,  these  raw  country  sol- 
diers had  few  ideas  of  discipline,  but  a  large  store 
of  whiskey.  Here  was  a  time  and  place  for  a  fine 
winter-night  frolic.  They  made  merry  accordingly. 


82  ZACI1AKY  PIMPS. 

The  bottle  flew  briskly  about.  The  forest  echoed 
with  jest  and  song.  Somebody  rubbing  his  be- 
numbed hands  idly  let  fall  the  word  "bonfire." 
The  suggestion  was  hailed  with  shouts  of  approval. 
In  a  twinkling  the  fagots  were  piled,  the  torch  ap- 
plied. Little  recked  the  boozy  revelers  that  the 
flames  mounting  skyward  sent  at  the  same  time  a 
tell-tale  ray  far  up  the  winding  river. 

The  watchful  fugitives  failed  not  to  take  warning. 
Directly,  every  light  on  the  little  fleet  was  put  out, 
every  voice  was  hushed,  and  thus,  hugging  the 
shadow  of  the  farther  shore,  in  silence  and  darkness, 
they  glided  past  their  would-be  captors,  arid  before 
morning  were  far  out  of  reach  of  pursuit. 

For  the  time  being  the  question  of  their  course 
was  simple  enough.  There  was  no  choice  of  ways. 
It  was  merely  a  matter  of  floating  downward  with 
the  current.  A  routine  was  quickly  established. 
The  officers  from  the  other  boats,  assembled  daily  on 
board  the  Bouncing  Bet,  passed  the  time  in  endless 
discussion,  wherein  Bollman  harangued  and  Blenner- 
hassett  gloomed  and  shook  his  head.  The  soldiers 
lounged  and  smoked;  the  crews  for  the  most  part 
did  the  like,  for  the  river,  flowing  with  midwinter 
fullness,  floated  them  over  snags  and  sandbars,  and 
relieved  them  of  the  task  of  poling. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  all  these  stirring 
experiences  made  a  profound  impression  on  Zach. 
Their  midnight  departure  from  the  island,  and  sub- 
sequent escape,  lived  in  his  memory  as  stuff  for  life- 
long reminiscence.  Thenceforward  the  expedition 
and  whatever  concerned  it  were  invested  with  a  nc*»v 


ZACHARY  PH1PS.  83 

and  thrilling  interest.  For  was  not  every  day's 
progress  an  advance  into  a  land  of  adventure  and 
possible  peril?  While  it  may  be  an  open  question 
whether  thoughts  and  emotions  of  this  sort  are  a 
wholesome  regimen  for  the  youthful  mind,  it  may 
be  pleaded  that  in  the  case  of  Zach  they  had  at 
least  a  marked  ripening  effect  upon  both  intellect 
and  character. 

Amid  all  the  mystery  which  surrounded  their 
course  and  doings,  one  question  overrode  all  others 
in  interest.  Where,  all  this  time,  was  the  com- 
mander? Day  and  night,  in  his  waking  hours, 
Zach  pondered  this  riddle,  as  there  came  back  to 
haunt  his  boyish  fancy  that  military  figure  sitting 
in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  that  cold,  handsome  face, 
those  shining  eyes,  that  inscrutable  look,  telling  of 
measureless  force  in  reserve,  and  of  a  calmness  im- 
pregnable to  assault.  Over  and  over  again  those 
words  rang  in  his  ears :  "  Zach,  you  're  the  kind  of 
a  boy  I  like.  Some  day  I  shall  have  work  for 
you!" 

When  was  that  day  coming?  Was  it  now  at 
hand  ?  What  kind  of  work  would  it  be  ?  Or  had 
these  been  merely  idle  words,  a  pretty  speech,  on  the 
part  of  the  commander?  No!  Zach  remembered 
—  could  he  ever  forget  ?  —  the  grave,  searching  look 
the  speaker  turned  upon  him  as  he  uttered  them. 
Ah !  What  would  not  the  little  dreamer  dare ! 
What  had  not  many  an  older  heart  and  wiser  head 
dared  and  done  under  the  witchery  of  those  eyes !  — 
darings  and  doings  of  which  history  has  discreetly 
suppressed  the  tale. 


84  ZAC1IARY  PUII'S. 

Although  some  of  these  questions  which  bothered 
Zach  were  destined  never  to  be  answered,  chance, 
meantime,  threw  a  side-light  upon  others,  which  in 
a  measure  prepared  him  for  the  extraordinary  events 
soon  to  follow. 

Seated  in  the  stern  with  Sandy  one  evening,  the 
conversation  turned  upon  river-pirates.  The  skipper 
scoffed  loudly  at  the  very  notion.  According  to 
him,  a  fresh-water  variety  of  pirate  must  of  necessity 
be  an  abortive  and  milksop  villain  quite  too  con- 
temptible to  mention.  About  to  argue  the  point, 
the  mate  was  checked  by  a  warning  hiss  and  a 
raised  forefinger.  He  stopped.  There  was  heard  a 
murmur  of  voices  near  at  hand.  It  soon  appeared 
that  the  triumvirate,  seated  over  their  wine  in  the 
little  cabin,  had  opened  the  window  to  let  out  the 
tobacco-smoke;  thereby  unwittingly  they  enlarged 
their  audience. 

"Ah,  but,  my  fren',"  the  voice  was  easily  recog- 
nizable, "ven  a  man  haf  some  great  ding  in  mind, 
he  fly  not  like  a  cock  upon  de  roof  to  flap  vings  und 
tell  all  de  vorld." 

"Neither  does  he  expect  men  to  leave  their  homes 
and  families ;  to  spend  their  time  and  money  on  a 
wild-goose  chase,  without  some  clear  understanding 
as  to  his  plans  and  purposes." 

Sandy  nodded  his  head  in  strong  approval  of  this 
answer  of  Blennerhassett's. 

"Vild-goose  chase'!  It  ees  a  goot  vord!  Ja, 
my  fren',  ve  fly  avay  from  dese  fools,  from  dis  ty- 
rannee,  from  all  dis  stupid  life,  like  dose  vild  gooses 
to  de  Golf  —  to  freedom.  Vy  say  you,  den,  ve  haf 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  85 

not  clear  under stahnding?  Vot  ees  not  understood? 
Ve  make  all  right  at  dis  end,  und  Vilkinson  at  de 
oder.  Ah-h,  you  forget  him,  den,  dis  grand  Vil- 
kinson yonder  at  New  Orleans !  He  haf  everyting 
ready:  men,  money,  arms,  provisions.  He  look 
every  day  to  see  us  come.  Ha,  vait,  den!  Vait 
only,  an'  see! " 

'"Wait ' !  We  have  done  nothing  but  wait.  Our 
lives  and  fortunes  are  at  stake,  and  't  is  due  to  us 
that  this  absurd  veil  of  mystery  should  be  dropped !  " 

"Who  is  deceived ?"  asked  Dupeister,  somewhat 
contemptuously . 

"I  was  deceived.  My  wife  was  deceived.  My 
friends  are  still  deceived.  All  this  talk  of  an  ideal 
community,  this  colony  in  the  wilderness,  —  't  was  a 
trick  unworthy  a  man  of  honor ! " 

"But  now  that  you  know  " 

"What  do  I  know?  What  assurance  have  I  of 
anything?  What  has  he  ever  said,  to  commit  him- 
self?" 

"You  haf  some  eyes,  my  fren',  you  see  for  your- 
self! It  ees  not  for  a  child,  dis  game  ve  play.  It 
ees  pretty  big  beezness.  It  make  some  day  a  great 
talk  in  historee.  It  bring  you  honor  und  gloree !  " 

"  God  grant  it  bring  me  not  rather  ruin  and  de- 
struction! A  more  foolhardy  venture  was  never 
made.  With  a  few  old  mud-scows  and  a  handful 
of  men,  to  attempt  to  overthrow  a  great  govern- 
ment!" 

'"Sh!" 

"Softly!  softly!" 

"  'T  is  the  truth !     You  know  it.     What  else  is 


86  ZA CHARY  rmrs. 

aimed  at  but  to  fan  into  rebellion  the  discontents  in 
these  border  States  " 

"Mine  fren',  vill  you  only  hearken  to  me?" 

"To  organize  a  revolution  " 

"Haf  caution  vat  you  speak  !  " 

"And  while  the  United  States  Government  is 
busied  putting  out  all  these  incendiary  fires  in  their 
own  borders,  to  seize  the  opportunity,  collect  a  troop 
of  desperadoes,  sweep  southward  like  a  tornado, 
and  achieve  at  a  blow  the  conquest  of"  — 

"Madman!" 

The  slamming  down  of  the  window  cut  short  the 
coming  revelation.  Zach  looked  aghast  at  Sandy, 
who  wagged  his  head  and  solemnly  clicked  his  tongue 
against  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  Before  either  could 
speak,  the  little  party  came  forth  from  the  cabin,  the 
other  boats  were  signaled  to  come  alongside,  and 
Bollman  and  Dupeister  returned  to  their  respective 
quarters  for  the  night. 

Directly,  Sandy  was  called  away  to  other  duties, 
and  Zach,  having  no  one  to  discuss  with  him  the 
puzzling  things  they  had  overheard,  went  reluctantly 
to  bed,  to  dream  of  conspiracies  and  revolutions, 
and  other  long  words  of  whose  meaning  he  had  very 
misty  notions. 

Next  morning,  all  these  nightmares  were  for- 
gotten in  the  wholesome  influence  of  commonplace 
sights  and  sounds.  The  blue  sky,  the  brown  river 
dimpling  in  the  wintry  sunshine,  the  solemn  pine 
forests  on  either  hand,  spoke  of  nothing  but  peace. 
So,  too,  the  human  kind  seemed  in  good  health  and 
spirits;  the  recruits  idly  chaffed  each  other  over 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  87 

their  breakfasts ;  the  crews  whistled  and  sang  in  the 
forward  deck,  while  at  the  helm,  languidly  sucking 
his  old  clay  pipe,  sat  the  imperturbable  skipper. 

Thereupon,  the  reassured  mate  dipped  his  rumpled 
head  into  a  bucket  of  the  muddy  river  water,  dried  it 
on  a  jack-towel,  broke  his  fast  on  bacon  and  johnny- 
cake,  and,  filling  his  own  pipe  from  the  plug  in  his 
pocket,  joined  his  comrade  in  the  stern. 

It  was  a  peaceful  picture  he  looked  upon:  the 
dark,  silent  forest  on  either  hand,  the  placid  river, 
the  little  flotilla  borne  steadily  on  as  upon  the  back 
of  some  vast,  slowly-writhing  serpent.  On  board 
the  boats  there  was  a  corresponding  calm ;  the  crews 
lounged  on  the  forward  decks,  their  leaders  gossiped 
amidship.  Thus  far  no  accident  had  befallen  them; 
there  was  not  a  man  on  the  sick-list ;  all  was  monot- 
onously well  with  the  little  fleet.  Indeed,  to  tell 
the  truth,  the  movement  of  the  drama  was  dragging 
wofully.  There  was  crying  need  of  some  stirring 
incident,  and,  be  it  said,  the  scene  could  not  have 
been  better  prepared  for  it. 

Thereupon,  as  if  for  once  blind  chance  lent  itself 
to  histrionic  clap-trap,  the  event  bettered  expecta- 
tion. As  they  rounded,  presently,  a  bend  in  the 
shore,  the  lookout  on  the  Bouncing  Bet  uttered  a 
warning  cry  and  pointed  landward.  All  eyes  turned 
in  that  direction,  and  saw  a  man  waving  a  white 
handkerchief  on  the  end  of  a  long  stick.  After  a 
brief  consultation,  it  was  decided  to  bear  down  upon 
him.  The  colloquy  that  took  place  was  short  and 
stirring. 

"  Is  Harman  Blennerhassett  on  board  ?  " 


88  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"I  am  the  man." 

"I  have  bad  news  for  you  !  " 

"What  is  it?" 

"Aaron  Burr  is  arrested  for  high  treason! " 

"  High  treason !"  Zach  repeated  the  words  over 
and  over  to  himself.  What  strange,  new,  and  awful 
thing  could  they  mean? 

In  a  trice  the  report  had  spread  to  the  whole  fleet. 
The  other  boats  made  haste  to  come  up. 

"Who  haf  done  dat?"  broke  out  the  inflammable 
Bollman.  "  'Tis  tyrannee,  rank  tyrannee!  Vere 
ees  it?  Vere  takes  it  place?  Dey  shall  put  him  in 
prison,  hein?" 

"Yes,  he  is  now  in  jail." 

"Eh?  hear  you  dat?  Come  on,  men!  Ve  go. 
Come  on!  Ve  tear  down  de  vails,  ve  get  him  out." 

In  obedience  to  this  summons,  Zach  instinctively 
stooped  and  picked  up  a  boat-hook,  joining,  excit- 
edly in  the  burst  of  applause  which  greeted  the 
Doctor's  harangue. 

The  messenger  on  shore  shook  his  head. 

"No,  no,"  he  called.  "Burr  sends  you  word  to 
observe  the  law,  to  do  no  violence,  to  go  on  in  your 
course  and  never  fear  for  him.  He  will  join  you, 
as  he  promised,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland." 

" Ja,  ja,  ja!  "  said  the  Doctor,  bawling  after  the 
departing  envoy;  "go  tell  him  ve  do  it.  Ve  go  to 
dot  place.  Ve  vait.  Ven  he  comes  not  right  avay 
to  join  us,  ve  tear  down  dat  prison  und  burn  in 
ashes  de  town." 

Thereupon  took  place,  on  the  deck  of  the  Boun- 
cing Bet,  an  informal  consultation.  Zach  listened 


Z  AC  II  Ml  Y  PHI  PS.  89 

open-mouthed  to  the  unguarded  remarks  dropped  by 
one  excited  leader  or  another  in  debating  the  question 
what  to  do. 

Should  they  go  on  ?  Should  they  return  ?  What 
confidence  could  be  placed  in  Burr's  promise  to  free 
himself?  Did  he  expect  to  hoodwink  the  govern- 
ment? Had  not  events  proved  over  and  over  again 
that  his  temperament  was  fatally  sanguine  ?  And 
to  them  —  his  accomplices  —  was  not  indulgent  For- 
tune pointing  out  that  very  moment  a  loophole  of 
escape  ?  Should  they  not  avail  themselves  of  it,  and 
fly  while  there  was  time  ?  Should  they  go  on  and 
join  Wilkinson,  or  stay  and  share  the  fate  of  their 
leader? 

Needless  to  say,  there  was  hopeless  difference  of 
opinion,  and  with  councils  so  divided,  no  course  was 
decided  upon. 

Meanwhile  time  and  tide  waited  not.  Days 
passed,  each  bringing  nearer  the  issue;  the  river 
rolled  on  and  bore  them  steadily  forward  to  the 
appointed  spot. 

"  Forward  "  —  but  how  slowly !  At  their  tortoise- 
pace  it  took  a  week  or  more  to  reach  the  mouth  of 
the  Cumberland.  Arrived  at  this  long-looked-for 
tryst,  Zach  was  keenly  disappointed  to  find  it  so 
humdrum  in  appearance.  It  is  not  clear  what  he 
had  pictured  to  himself;  doubtless  he  had  expected 
to  find  it  distinguished  in  some  striking  way  by  art 
or  nature.  This  feeling,  too,  may  have  been  shared 
by  his  elders,  for  they  showed  little  interest  or  enthu- 
siasm on  arriving,  and  moodily  brought  the  boats  to 
anchor  in  sheltered  places  along  the  shore. 


1)0  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

In  accordance  with  a  plan  agreed  upon,  the  next 
day  a  couple  of  trustworthy  men  were  posted  off  to 
find  the  commander  and  bring  back  some  definite 
news  of  him. 

Thereupon  the  rest  of  the  expedition  entered  upon 
a  season  of  doubt  and  weary  waiting,  attended  by 
very  evident  demoralization. 

"  What  'd  I  tell  ye,  Bub  ?  "  asked  Sandy  of  Zach 
at  one  of  their  evening  colloquies. 

"What?" 

"'Bout  this  'ere,"  with  a  contemptuous  nod. 

"Dunno." 

"Didn't  I  say  'twould  go  to  bits?  Wall,  it 
has!" 

"Ho,"  incredulously. 

"It 's  all  up,  I  tell  ye,  — a  dead  hog." 

"Jes'  wait  till  he  comes  back!  "  retorted  Zach, 
stoutly. 

"Young  un,  look  a-here!  I'm  goin'  to  put  a 
live  flea  in  your  ear,  —  he  ain't  a-comin'!  " 

"How  can  he  come, — don't  you  know  he's  in 
prison  ?  " 

"Is  he?"  Sandy  clucked  his  tongue.  "Wait 
'n'  see,  that 's  all!  An'  this  'ere  Wilkinson  —  d'  ye 
know  wot  I  think?  Bub,  I  think  th'  ain't  no  such 
man!" 

Accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  drift  of  Sandy's 
moralizing,  Zach  could  not  help  looking  troubled  at 
this.  % 

"No,  Bub,"  went  on  the  skipper,  shifting  his 
quid  from  one  cheek  to  another.  "  We  ain't  seen 
the  wust  o'  this  by  a  long  chop.  He  's  got  us  out  in 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  91 

these  backwoods,  where  all  ther  is  fer  a  white  man 
to  do  is  to  starve  to  death,  an'  he  cuts  stick.  Jes' 
you  hold  on  till  the  rations  git  low,  an'  ther  '11  be 
some  music  round  here  !  " 

Sandy's  growlings  were  stopped  by  the  arrival  of 
a  bird  of  good  omen.  A  large  boat  was  presently 
seen  floating  past  them  amidstream. 

Directly,  it  was  recognized,  and  hailed  with  shouts 
of  welcome.  On  the  deck,  smiling  and  waving,  stood 
Mrs.  Bleiinerhassett  and  her  children.  Having 
procured  a  boat  from  Marietta,  she  had  loaded  it 
with  her  choicest  household  effects,  and  followed 
to  join  her  husband  and  share  the  fortunes  of  the 
expedition. 

Never  did  languishing  cause  so  need  the  tonic  of 
enthusiasm. 

Zach  was  on  d£ck  next  morning  when  she  came 
tripping  forth  from  the  cabin  with  the  triumvirate 
at  her  heels. 

"Pooh,  pooh!  I  say.  I'll  never  believe  a  word 
of  it.  Doctor,  you  astonish  me!  Colonel,  I  'm 
ashamed  of  you  for  such  croaking.  You  've  both 
been  listening  to  my  Bleiinerhassett,  I  know  well 
enough.  Trust  me,  I  should  have  thrown  myself  in 
the  river  long  ago,  if  I  had  listened  to  him.  Never 
heed  him!  You  hear,  my  dear,"  turning  to  her 
husband,  "what  a  character  you  're  getting  !  Never 
heed  him,  I  say !  This  storm  will  blow  over.  If 
only  Wilkinson  keeps  his  word,  success  is  sure.  As 
for  Colonel  Burr,  my  friends,  believe  me,  that  man 
was  born  to  win !  Come,  now,  I  '11  lay  a  wager 
with  any  one  that  he  will  be  with  us  this  day  week ! 


92  ZACllARY  PHI  PS. 

What,  no  takers?  Gentlemen,  I  have  doubts  of 
your  courage!  Colonel,"  sinking  her  voice,  "do 
you  complain  to  me  of  nothing  to  do?  Why  don't 
you  set  all  these  lazy  fellows  ashore  —  see,  yonder 
is  a  fine  bit  of  open !  —  and  put  them  through  their 
drill?" 

Turning  with  these  words  from  Dupeister  to  join 
her  husband,  the  speaker  came  upon  Zach. 

"Ah,  whom  have  we  here?  more  old  acquaint- 
ance. Are  you  not  —  sure  enough  you  are  —  the 
little  man  I  saw  yonder  on  the  island?  What  high 
office  is  this  you  hold,  my  dear?  The  mate,  ah, 
yes.  Do  you  hear,  Colonel?  let  me  introduce  the 
mate  of  the  Bouncing  Bet,  Mr.  Jack—  What's 
your  other  name,  my  dear?" 

"Zachary  Phips." 

"Phips,  to  be  sure.  Well,  Zach,  I  dare  say 
you  're  a  fine  seaman  by  this,  and  I  'm  glad  to  see 
you  safe  and  sound.  Now  you  shall  go  aft  and 
teach  my  own  boys  yonder  to  fish.  Harman,  dear, 
make  room!  here  is  the  mate  coming  to  join  you!  " 

The  ring  of  this  cheery  voice  set  a  little  chord 
throbbing  in  Zach's  heart,  and  he  felt  an  inexpli- 
cable thrill  as  the  firm,  jeweled  hand  rested  011  his 
shoulder.  He  yielded  perforce  to  the  old  charm. 
His  elders,  be  it  said,  followed  suit  at  discretion. 
Nobody  could  long  resist  such  kindliness,  such 
energy,  such  enthusiasm.  Thereupon  the  stagnant 
thermometer  of  the  expedition  mounted  several  de- 
grees. Events,  too,  seemed  to  happen  out  of  due 
course  and  probability  for  no  other  reason  than  to 
justify  this  irrational  hope  and  courage.  The  mes- 


ZACHAKY  PHIPS.  93 

seugers,  for  example,  returned  clays  before  they  were 
expected  and  garrulous  with  news,  —  startling  news, 
news  incredible  and  quite  too  good  to  be  true.  Burr's 
star  was  still  in  the  ascendant.  He  had  been  tried 
— •  the  great  Henry  Clay  acting  as  his  counsel  —  and 
acquitted.  The  country  was  ringing  with  his  tri- 
umph. Balls  and  fetes  signalized  his  victory.  Has- 
tening to  Nashville  to  join  his  contingent  there,  the 
whole  city  had  united  in  tendering  him  an  ovation ; 
policy  compelled  him,  however  anxious  to  overtake 
his  waiting  friends,  to  accept  the  tribute.  The 
time  spent  was  not  lost.  Every  hour  brought  more 
money,  provisions,  recruits,  and  confirmed  him  and 
his  enterprise  in  the  good  graces  of  the  people. 

On  the  very  heels  of  this  news  came,  the  com- 
mander himself.  Zach  was  washing  the  soap  out 
of  his  eyes,  early  one  morning,  when  he  saw  a  line 
of  dark  objects  coming  down  the  tributary  river. 
He  pointed  them  out  to  Sandy,  who  put  a  glass  on 
them. 

"I '11  be  cussed,  Bub,"- 

"Eh!" 
-  "If  't  ain't  the  other  fleet." 

Zach  thought  no  more  of  his  soapy  eyes;  he 
thought  only  of  Mrs.  Blennerhassett,  and  of  being 
the  first  to  tell  her  the  news. 

Accordingly  he  ran  to  the  cabin  door  and  pounded 
with  might  and  main,  shouting  all  the  time  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  — 

"  Here  he  comes  I  Here  he  comes !  The  boats ! 
See  the  boats! " 

An  hour  of  commotion  followed,  in  which  guns 


94  ZACHARY  PH1PS. 

were  fired,  flags  waved,  and  the  woods  rang  with 
hnzzahs. 

The  commander  with  his  daughter  came  straight- 
way aboard  the  Bouncing  Bet.  The  two  women 
flew  to  each  other  as  if  with  magnetic  attraction, 
and  Zach  from  his  seat  in  the  stern  witnessed  with 
wonder  the  ease  with  which  Burr  himself  resumed 
his  old  ascendency  over  the  triumvirate. 

Later  in  the  day,  Burr  reviewed  the  fleet  and 
made  a  speech  to  the  members  of  the  expedition, 
from  the  deck  of  the  Bouncing  Bet.  Zach  heard 
it  all.  He  marveled  in  his  boyish  ignorance  how 
such  a  little  man  could  produce  so  profound  an 
impression ;  could  call  up  tones  and  gestures  which 
so  dignified  the  occasion.  His  words, —  what  could 
be  more  convincing?  He  called  them  a  band  of 
brothers,  a  band  of  freemen,  who  were  leaving  be- 
hind a  poor,  weak,  tyrannical  government,  to  go 
to  carve  out  fortunes  for  themselves  under  better 
auspices.  What  a  glorious  future  awaited  them! 
What  wealth,  what  honor,  what  fame !  Perils  and 
hardships  there  would  be,  but  did  they  not  expect 
them?  Were  they  not  ready  for  them?  Was  not 
the  prize  worth  any  sacrifice  and  endeavor? 

Irresistibly,  the  old  fascination  made  itself  felt. 
Who  could  harbor  in  his  bosom  a  qualm  before  that 
assurance  so  lofty  and  so  calm ;  before  that  courage 
which  had  never  been  wanting  in  any  emergency ; 
before  that  whole  heroic  personality,  freshly  returned 
to  them,  crowned  with  the  laurels  of  a  victory  gained 
over  a  weak  and  malignant  administration? 

The  speech  was  received  with  great  enthusiasm ; 


ZACIIARY  PI1IPS.  95 

it  seemed  not  to  strike  any  one  as  odd  that  there 
had  been  no  mention  of  Washita  in  it,  or  that  in 
a  harangue  professedly  setting  forth  the  objects  of 
the  expedition,  not  a  single  definite  word  had  been 
uttered. 

Thereupon  they  got  under  way,  —  down  the  Ohio 
to  the  Mississippi,  and  so  downward  towards  the 
Gulf.  But  under  auspices  how  changed !  No 
longer  they  stole  along  in  silence  and  fear,  seeing 
in  every  man  an  enemy  and  in  every  thicket  an 
ambuscade,  but  with  all  disguise  and  secrecy  laid 
aside,  they  floated  amidstream  in  the  blaze  of  noon, 
with  banners  flying,  with  shouts  and  laughter,  chal- 
lenging attention,  exchanging  visits  and  compli- 
ments with  every  wayside  resident  of  wealth  or  dis- 
tinction, boldly  saluting  the  forts  of  the  government, 
and  hobnobbing  with  its  officers. 

Although  the  gayety  culminated  on  board  the 
Bouncing  Bet,  it  seemed  not  to  include  the  com- 
mander. Maintaining  ever  the  same  unbroken 
equanimity,  he  showed  no  elation.  Zach  never  tired 
of  watching  him  as  he  paced  the  deck,  now  disputing 
with  the  triumvirate,  now  chatting  with  the  ladies. 
Wherein  dwelt  the  subtle  nameless  air  of  distinction 
which  hung  about  him,  shown  now  in  the  impressive 
dignity  which  he  employed  with  the  men,  now  in  the 
tender  air  of  solicitude  he  showed  toward  his  daugh- 
ter, or,  again,  in  the  courtly  bearing  displayed  to- 
wards Mrs.  Blennerhassett  ? 

If,  to  a  more  worldly-wise  critic,  these  same  fine 
manners  might  have  seemed  too  invariably  correct 
to  be  natural,  too  elaborate  to  be  entirely  honest, 


9C  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Zach  was  incapable  of  such  subtle  distinctions.  He 
took  things  as  they  seemed,  and  did  not  go  out  of 
his  way  to  find  any  latent  significance  in  the  intent, 
admiring  look  with  which  the  commander  greeted 
Mrs.  Blennerhassett  of  a  morning,  in  the  fact  that 
he  held  her  hand  a  needlessly  long  time  when  saying 
good-night,  or  in  his  habit  of  invariably  lowering 
his  voice  upon  the  approach  of  anybody  when  they 
were  talking. 

Whatever  the  temptation,  however,  the  commander 
allowed  nothing  to  interfere  with  business.  Neither 
did  he  spend  all  his  time  talking  with  the  ladies,  nor 
any  preponderance  of  it  on  board  the  Bouncing  Bet. 
He  scrupulously  visited  all  the  vessels  of  the  fleet  in 
turn.  He  talked  with  the  under  officers,  with  the 
men,  with  the  very  negro  boatmen.  Thus,  in  due 
time,  it  came  Zach's  turn.  As  it  chanced,  Sandy 
had  left  him  alone  to  manage  the  helm  one  evening. 
Burr  approached,  sat  down  beside  him,  and  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  try  his  luck  at  steering.  Affecting 
not  to  note  Zach's  embarrassment,  he  went  on  talk- 
ing the  while  in  an  easy,  friendly  way,  not  to  be 
mistaken  for  familiarity. 

"So!  Why,  'tis  not  so  hard.  This,  you  say,  is 
larboard.  H'm-m !  I  might  soon  learn, —  why  not  ? 
So  you  are  to  be  a  boatman,  Zach?  No?  You  look 
higher?  Ah,  I  thought  so.  You  read  and  write? 
Yes,  of  course.  Twelve  years  old.  Eh,  only  nine? 
You  are  a  big  boy  for  nine.  Nine,  —  so  much  the 
better,  there  's  plenty  of  time  to  learn.  You  can't 
learn  too  much,  remember  that !  Learn  every- 
thing that  comes  in  your  way !  Read  all  the  good 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  97 

books.  The  good  books  are  the  books  which  tell 
about  facts.  Then  some  day  when  your  chance 
comes,  you  '11  be  ready.  And  it  will  come,  it  will 
surely  come,  my  boy,"  rising  and  patting  his  lis- 
tener's head.  " Remember  this,  too,"  — 

Zach  looked  up  expectantly,  and  the  blazing  eyes 
seemed  to  pierce  straight  to  his  heart. 

— "  And  remember  that  Aaron  Burr  said  it  to 
you:  in  this  country  every  man  is  just  what  he 
makes  himself !  " 

It  might,  perhaps,  be  too  much  to  say  of  that  mo- 
ment that  it  formed  an  epoch  in  Zach's  life;  but  it 
is  not  improbable  that  the  influence  of  the  speaker's 
look  and  tone  so  emphasized  the  force  of  the  truism 
he  uttered,  that  not  all  the  stormy  events  of  his  after 
life  ever  quite  obliterated  them  from  the  hearer's 
mind. 

Had  Zach  been  but  blessed  with  clairvoyant  vision 
as  he  gazed  admiringly  after  his  hero  that  night,  he 
would  have  seen  suspended,  by  a  slender  thread, 
above  his  head  an  ugly  weapon  known  of  old  as  the 
"Sword  of  Damocles." 

In  their  onward  course  the  fleet  came  at  last  to 
Bayou  Pierre,  a  small  town  thirty  miles  above  Nat- 
chez. Hardly  had  they  anchored  off  the  levee  when 
news  came  to  Burr  from  a  trustworthy  source  that 
Wilkinson,  through  treachery  or  panic,  had  betrayed 
him  to  the  government ;  that  the  real  purpose  of 
the  expedition  was  known,  and  that  the  whole  coun- 
try was  ringing  with  the  damning  evidence  of  his 
treason. 


98  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  as  to  his  guilt  or  in- 
nocence, there  can  be  no  question  that  in  this  crisis 
Burr  showed  the  stuff  of  leadership.  With  un- 
shaken composure,  he  read  the  downfall  of  his  hopes, 
and  heard  clanging  in  the  air  the  knell  of  his  great 
enterprise. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  end  had  come. 
He  held  in  his  hand  the  proclamation  of  the  gov- 
ernor of  Mississippi,  charging  him  and  his  associ- 
ates with  conspiracy. 

With  a  smile  of  contempt  for  the  benefit  of  the 
messenger,  he  passed  the  paper  to  Bollman,  and 
coolly  ridiculed  the  charge. 

But  fine  words  would  no  longer  serve.  The  gov- 
ernor was  at  hand.  He  summoned  Burr  to  a  meet- 
ing on  shore.  Without  guard  or  escort  the  latter 
boldly  repaired  to  the  spot.  His  dismayed  adher- 
ents saw  him  depart  with  a  smile  of  confidence  on 
his  lips.  Standing  in  the  midst  of  them,  Zach 
looked  blankly  on  with  a  bewildered  sense  that  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

The  suspense  was  short.  News  came  directly  that 
the  commander  was  again  arrested;  that  a  grand 
jury  was  impaneled  to  indict  him. 

Remembering  the  triumphant  smile  with  which  he 
had  departed,  Zach  held  fast  to  his  faith,  and  in 
answer  to  Sandy's  croaking  sneer,  said  only,  "  Wait 
and  see ! " 

As  there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  they  did  wait  and 
see.  Early  next  morning  came  tidings  that,  after 
a  careful  hearing  of  the  evidence,  the  grand  jury 
had  failed  to  find  an  indictment. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  99 

The  jubilation  in  the  fleet  over  this  report  was 
quickly  nipped  in  the  bud. 

A  discouraging  rumor  prevailed  that  Mephisto- 
pheles,  in  the  form  of  the  renegade  Wilkinson,  stood 
back  of  the  governor's  chair  whispering  new  insinu- 
ations in  his  ear.  In  vain  Burr  demanded  his  re- 
lease. The  prejudiced  official  held  fast  to  his  pris- 
oner in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  grand  jury,  the 
judge  of  the  court,  and  the  whole  community  took 
sides  with  this  victim  of  lawless  tyranny. 

The  victim  himself,  despairing  of  getting  the 
governor's  consent  to  his  release,  chose  to  do  with- 
out it. 

Thus  one  fine  day  his  comrades  on  the  fleet  were 
startled  out  of  their  apathy  by  the  report  of  his 
escape. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  joy  on  board  the  fleet  over  Burr's  escape  was 
not  of  long  duration,  for  in  a  very  few  days  came 
news  of  his  recapture. 

Those  intervening  days  had  afforded  the  mem- 
bers of  the  expedition  opportunity  for  a  little  cool 
reflection.  With  one  accord  all  recognized  that  the 
end  had  come.  Their  secret  was  disclosed.  The 
government  was  at  last  thoroughly  aroused.  A  re- 
sistless force  blocked  the  way. 

In  his  own  fashion  Zach  felt  overwhelmed  by  the 
blow.  To  his  boyish  fancy  it  seemed  that  a  big, 
black  curtain  had  suddenly  fallen  between  him  and 
a  future  glowing  with  promise.  Instead  of  those 
hope-lighted  fields  in  which  he  had  been  so  long 
roaming  at  large,  he  now  felt  himself  squeezed  into 
a  cramped,  sordid,  workaday  present,  where  there 
was  scant  light,  air,  or  elbow-room. 

Dazed  and  helpless,  he  looked  on  and  saw  the 
proud  fabric  of  the  expedition  fall  to  pieces  like  a 
rope  of  sand.  He  could  by  no  means  understand 
how  it  came  about,  or  what  it  meant,  or  what  had 
happened  to  make  everybody  so  suddenly  lose  heart. 
Had  not  the  commander  triumphed  over  his  enemies 
before  ?  Could  he  not  do  it  again  ? 

He  beheld,  happy  boy  I  only  the  outside  of  things. 
He  knew  nothing  of  those  busy  sappers  and  miners 
known  as  moral  causes,  knew  nothing  of  the  dry 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  101 

rot  of  demoralization  which  had  been  already  a  long 
time  at  work  on  the  flimsy  substance  of  the  expe- 
dition. Little  as  he  saw,  it  was  enough  to  make 
him  feel  ashamed  of  his  fellows,  for  at  the  end 
there  was  a  scramble  for  spoils  which  was  at  once 
brutish  and  quite  human.  Everybody  seized  what 
he  could  lay  hand  on  and  ran  away.  This  does  not 
necessarily  inculpate  the  leaders,  who  had  neither 
voice  nor  authority  to  stay  the  pillage. 

The  two  women  sat  apart,  unconscious  of  all  this 
clutching  and  grabbing.  Gathering  up  the  feeble 
shreds  and  patches  of  hope  left  her,  Mrs.  Blenner- 
hassett  tried  heroically  to  support  her  companion. 
At  the  instance  of  the  down-hearted  Theodosia,  she 
made  a  futile  effort  to  stay  the  panic.  Her  voice, 
once  so  potent,  was  unheeded.  Even  her  husband 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  her  entreaties,  and  sternly  went 
on  with  his  preparations  to  depart.  For  the  first 
time  in  their  married  life  he  was  the  moving  power. 
Summoned  at  last  to  go,  she  turned  to  leave  the  boat, 
when  her  eye  fell  upon  Zach.  He  sat  watching  her 
with  an  ache  at  his  heart.  Upon  the  instant,  drop- 
ping bags  and  baskets,  she  flew  to  him. 

"Dear  child  !  I  quite  forgot  you  !  "  folding  him 
in  her  arms.  "What  is  to  become  of  you?  Alas! 
what  is  to  become  of  any  of  us  ?  God  in  his  infinite 
mercy  only  knows.  I  cannot  leave  you  behind  here 
in  the  wilderness.  Harman,"  to  her  husband,  "he 
shall  go  with  us.  It  is  little  enough  we  have  left, 
but  —  Blennerhassett,  my  dear !  " 

"Hold  hard,  marm!"  Sandy  at  last  broke  in. 
"Don't  you  never  fret  about  him.  He  ain't  goin' 


102  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

overboard  yit.  I  fetched  him  out  here,  V  I  ain't 
goin'  to  let  him  git  stranded." 

"True,  true!  I  forgot.  You  told  me  before. 
I  'm  glad  he  has  such  a  friend.  Ah,  keep  him  out 
of  harm's  way,  my  good  man!  Keep  him  from  bad 
—  er  —  companions,"  with  a  dubious  look  at  the 
skipper  himself.  "  Remember,  he  is  still  a  child  ! 
Remember  he  has  no  mother!  My  dear,"  turning 
again  to  Zach,  "  't  is  sad  to  leave  you  in  this  wild 
place,  but,"  lowering  her  voice,  "courage!  Cour- 
age, my  boy!  This  is  not  the  end!  That  great 
man  is  not  dead.  He  will  triumph,  surely.  His 
great  heart  pants  for  a  larger  freedom,  and  he  will 
gain  it.  There  is  time  yet,  and  so, — so,"  she  re- 
peated with  a  significant  glance,  "we  may  meet 
again.  Remember  me.  Remember  what  I  say! 
Good-by!  Good-by!  May  God  bless  and  guard 
you!" 

These  were  not  mere  words,  they  were  facts ;  they 
lived  in  Zach's  memory,  not  as  predictions,  but  as 
truths,  —  truths  by  which  unconsciously  he  squared 
his  life,  planned  the  future  and  gauged  the  past. 
In  the  long  years  of  trial  and  privation  which  fol- 
lowed, in  the  years  of  blind  gropings  among  baffling 
cross-roads  for  a  way  which  would  lead  him  up  to 
some  clear  outlook  upon  life,  how  he  listened  for 
that  summons !  how  he  waited,  ready  at  any  moment 
of  day  or  night  to  answer  to  that  call ! 

Meantime  the  tumult  of  dissolution  raged  about 
him.  Everything  seemed  coming  to  an  end.  Not 
until  the  next  morning,  when  sleep  had  cleared  his 
brain  of  bewilderment,  did  he  fully  realize  the  change 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  103 

that  had  taken  place.  Of  all  the  bustling  throng 
of  yesterday,  there  were  left,  besides  a  couple  of 
negroes,  only  the  Doctor  and  Sandy,  and  of  the 
imposing  flotilla  only  two  sorry-looking  barges  as 
convoys  of  the  Bouncing  Bet. 

This  paltry  remnant  of  the  fleet  represented  Burr's 
especial  assets.  The  Doctor,  loyal  to  the  end,  be- 
stirred himself  to  realize  what  he  could  on  them. 
He  succeeded  in  selling  the  negroes  and  barges  at 
Natchez,  and  with  his  crew  reduced  to  skipper  and 
mate,  turned  the  prow  of  the  Bouncing  Bet  south- 
ward. 

As  the  course  of  the  river  from  Natchez  to  New 
Orleans  is  very  crooked,  they  naturally  made  slower 
progress  than  usual,  but  haying  no  cargo,  they  passed 
without  difficulty  other  boats  more  heavily  laden. 
One  of  these  floated  some  hours  alongside,  and  seemed 
disposed  to  join  company.  The  watchful  Doctor  took 
occasion  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  the  skipper. 
Zach,  who  had  never  before  fallen  in  with  a  Missis- 
sippi boatman,  stared  at  the  stranger  with  might 
and  main.  Tall,  stooping,  gaunt,  and  impressively 
muscular,  his  face  scarlet,  his  eyelashes  gone,  his 
long,  tawny  hair  crowned  by  a  wide-brimmed  hat 
which  flopped  about  his  face;  his  dress  a  linsey- 
woolsey  jacket  with  sleeves  half-way  to  his  elbows, 
supplemented  by  trousers  of  Kentucky  jeans,  which 
reached  but  little  below  the  knee,  he  was  of  a  type 
not  to  be  easily  confused  with  others. 

"Mornin',  stranger!"  he  called  out  in  answer  to 
the  Doctor's  nod. 

"Goot  morning;  ve  make  de  road  togedder,  it 
seem ! " 


104  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

"Yeah." 

"It  might  rain,  you  dink?" 

"Naw." 

"It  ees  cold  already," 

"Raw  ez  hell." 

"De  river  makes  itself  very  full  dose  times." 

"Naw,"  squirting  tobacco  juice,  "jes'  takin'  a 
long  breath ;  she  won't  spill  over  yit  awhile.  Loaded 
rather  light,  ain't  ye?"  looking  the  Bouncing  Bet 
over  critically. 

"Ve,  — h'm-m.  Ja,  ve  get  rid  of  some  dings  at 
dot  odder  place," 

"Natchez?" 

"Ye-es;  dot  vos  it." 

"Whatyebentotin'?" 

"Hein?" 

"Loaded  with  hogs,  was  ye?" 

"  Ja  —  ye-es;  "  adding  to  himself  in  an  undertone, 
"dotvasno  lie,  God  knows;  hogs  vith  two  legs  only. 
Also,  mine  fren',"  striving  to  give  a  turn  to  the 
talk,  "dot  ees  fine  maize  you  haf." 

"Heigh?" 

"De  corn,"  pointing  to  the  cargo  of  the  stranger's 
craft;  "how  goes  de  price,  now?" 

"Seven  bits  dumped  on  the  levee." 

The  doctor  whistled  and  rolled  his  eyes  in  well- 
feigned  astonishment.  Having  adroitly  rounded  one 
conversational  snag,  however,  he  kept  on  the  alert. 

"Seven  bits,"  repeated  the  stranger;  "an'  goin' 
to  climb," 

"Vy  ees  dot?" 

"Bad  season,  poor  crop,  rot,  — mildew." 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  105 

"Und  de  bad  crop  make  de  goot  brice?" 

"I  reckon;  but  I  say,  stranger,  whar'  d'ye  hail 
from?" 

"  Ve  —  h'm-m  —  ve  come  from  —  er  —  avay  up 
yonder,  see?  "  waving  his  arm  vaguely  to  the  north- 
ward, "but  you,  my  fren',  come  from  moch  nearer, 
hem?" 

"Right,  stranger;  I  come  from  Kentuck,  'n'  a 
right  good  place  to  hail  from.  Ye  goin'  to  load  up 
down  below?  " 

"Dis  boat?     No,  I  load  it  never  again  !  " 

"  Don 't  say  ?     Nothin'  the  matter  with  her  ?  " 

"Noding;  she  ees  like  a  nut,  so  sound." 

"Humph!  she  ain't  bad  lookin'.  What  d'  ye  ask 
for  her?" 

"  A  song  vot  you  sing,  —  noding  at  all ;  dirt  cheap. 
If  you  want  a  boat,  now,  my  fren'  " — 

"Naw,  naw,  1  don't.  Thunder!  I  got  boats 
enough.  But,  I  say,  come  aboard  here.  Les'  have 
a  drink.  How  old  is  she? " 

"  Seex  —  five  —  er  —  four  —  how  do  I  know  ?  look 
for  yourself." 

"Come  aboard!  Come  aboard,  I  say,"  putting 
over  his  helm  as  he  spoke  so  as  to  come  alongside. 
"Ther  bein'  nary  thing  else  to  do,  we  mought  strike 
a  trade!  " 

The  Doctor,  nothing  loath,  stepped  aboard,  and 
disappeared  with  the  stranger  into  his  little  cabin, 
where  they  remained  haggling  over  their  tin  cups  of 
whiskey  for  a  matter  of  two  hours. 

Zach  and  Sandy,  left  to  themselves,  had  a  con- 
ference. 


106  ZACB-ARY  PIIIPS. 

"Is  he  goin'  to  sell  the  Bouncing  Bet,  Sandy?" 

The  tone  was  one  of  dismay. 

"Seems likely,  Bub,"  coolly  answered  the  skipper, 
as  he  grazed  an  ugly  snag. 

"What  shall  we  do,  then?" 

"Trust  to  luck,  young  un,  as  we  did  afore." 

Zach  did  not  look  reassured.  After  pondering 
the  matter,  he  presently  suggested,  - 

"P'raps,  'f  that  man  buys  her,  he  '11  take  us 
too." 

"No,  he  won't,  Bub;  he  won't  git  us.  I  'm 
through  with  this  river  business.  It  's  too  squeez- 
in' ;  th'  ain't  room  enough;  it  's  like  a  bead  slidin' 
up  an'  down  a  string." 

Zach  was  silent.  Clearly,  he  did  not  agree  with 
the  skipper. 

"No,  Bub,  you  keep  your  upper  lip  out  o'  pucker. 
We  '11  find  su'thin'  or  other,  but  no  more  o'  this 
kindo'foolin'!" 

Again  Zach  held  his  peace.  How  could  he  ever 
make  Sandy  understand  that  the  expedition,  what- 
ever its  outcome,  had  been  to  him  the  beginning  of 
life;  had  opened  to  him  untrod  fields  of  thought 
and  fancy !  had  taught  him  new  words  and  things ; 
big  words,  standing  for  mighty  things, —  the  world, 
mankind,  freedom,  destiny;  had  stirred  within  him 
strange  yearnings  not  to  be  put  into  language! 

"  Shall  we  have  to  run  away  when  we  git  there, 
Sandy?"  he  asked,  with  a  very  vague  notion  of  the 
rights  of  a  free-born  American  citizen. 

"Gitwhar!" 

"Noo  Orle'ens." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  107 

"No,  Bub,  we  '11  walk  away,  an'  ez  slow  's  ye 
like,  but  not  afore  this  ere  one  comes  down  with  the 
rhino;  we  don't  h'ist  anchor  'thout  rations  aboard 
another  time." 

The  afternoon  was  half  spent  when  the  Doctor 
came  back  to  his  own  quarters.  His  face  wore  a 
look  of  satisfaction.  He  muttered  to  himself,  and, 
returning  to  the  cabin,  he  spent  an  hour  poring  over 
the  accounts. 

Meantime  the  boat,  gliding  on  its  way,  arrived 
within  sight  of  the  Crescent  City.  Zach's  cry  of 
announcement  brought  out  the  Doctor,  who,  assuring 
himself  that  they  were  indeed  at  last  within  view  of 
their  destination,  thought  wise  to  prepare  his  crew 
for  the  coming  separation  v 

"Veil,  boys,  ve  get  here,  hein?  De  eggsbedition 
for  dis  time  come  to  an  end.  Ja,  't  is  true,  't  vos 
bad  luck  ve  had.  Ach,  lieber  Gk>tt,  awful  bad!  It 
ees  not  den  my  fault,  see  you?  I  lose  all  my  time, 
all  my  vork,  all  my  money.  I  see  everyting  ready 
to  fly  away,  uud  I  plead  mit  dose  odders ;  I  pray  dey 
shall  haf  some  reason,  dot  dey  shall  vait.  But  you 
haf  see ;  dey  listen  to  noding.  Dey  run  avay  home, 
und  all  goes  to  pieces.  How,  den,  tell  me,  my  fren's, 
can  I  keep  to  you  dose  promises  I  make  'bout  dot 
land  'n'  dose  odder  tings,  hein?" 

"Devil  take  the  land  'n'  the  promises.  Gimme 
my  wages,  that  's  all  I  want,  'n'  I  don't  ask  no  odds 
then  o'  anybody,"  said  Sandy  gruffly,  suspecting  a 
coming  default  of  payment. 

He  was  mistaken.  The  Doctor  promptly  paid 
him  the  full  amount  due,  and  when  the  boat  reached 


108  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

the  levee,  bade  them  a  kindly  good-by,  adding,  as  a 
final  warning,  — 

"St!  Ven  ve  keep  dis  vild  leetle  animal,"  tap- 
ping the  end  of  his  tongue,  "  shut  up  in  de  cage,  ve 
get  not  so  much  into  mischief,  hein?" 

Very  different  from  the  stately  city  of  to-day  was 
the  shabby,  irregular  little  town  of  New  Orleans 
which  greeted  Zach's  wandering  eyes  as,  having 
taken  a  fond  parting  look  at  the  Bouncing  Bet,  he 
turned  to  follow  Sandy  along  the  levee.  Although 
it  had  been  already  for  two  years  under  the  domin- 
ion of  the  United  States,  it  was  still  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  a  foreign  town,  its  populace  a  jumble 
of  nationalities,  and  its  life  signalized  by  a  bewil- 
dering variety  of  languages,  customs,  types  of  char- 
acter, styles  of  garb,  and  forms  of  address. 

Naturally  enough,  as  the  most  characteristic  fea- 
ture of  the  town,  Zach's  attention  was  first  drawn  to 
the  levee.  The  sights  there  proved  odd  and  novel 
to  the  little  Yankee.  Chief  among  these  were  the 
boats.  Lying  sluggishly  in  a  straggling  row  along 
the  batture,  with  their  noses  stuck  into  the  soft  mud, 
were  scores  of  long,  black,  crocodile-looking  rafts, 
covered  by  a  raised  scantling  to  protect  their  cargo, 
and  furnished  with  no  motive  power  save  a  long  oar 
at  the  stern  and  two  pieces  of  timber  projecting  like 
fins  from  the  sides,  to  serve  in  a  rude  way  as  pad- 
dles. Loaded  with  fruit,  vegetables,  poultry,  lard, 
coarse  hay,  and  live  hogs,  all  lying  side  by  side, 
steaming  in  the  sun,  and  sending  forth  a  richly- 
compounded  and  sickening  stench,  they  presented 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  109 

a  feature  of  commercial  wealth  and  enterprise  not 
to  be  forgotten. 

The  levee  had  other  features  calculated  to  keep 
Zach  agape.  These  were  the  piles  of  merchandise. 
He  had  not  dreamed  there  could  be  so  much  upon 
earth :  pork  without  end,  flour  by  the  thousand  bar- 
rels, cotton  in  mountainous  heaps,  dumped  bale  upon 
bale  on  the  muddy  batture  for  the  wind  to  blow  over, 
the  rain  to  pour  upon,  and  the  hot,  scorching  sun 
to  burn,  until  bagging  and  binding-cord  rotted  and 
fell  away. 

Well  might  the  new-comers  stare  at  all  this 
wealth  brought  from  some  mysterious  source,  which 
Sandy  vaguely  called  "up  North,"  by  the  down- 
rushing  river,  to  be  piled  up  in  overwhelming  pro- 
fusion here  at  its  mouth  for  all  the  world  to  come 
and  gather. 

The  day  is  on  the  wane.  With  the  sunset  hour 
the  levee  takes  on  another  aspect.  The  muddy  river 
gleams  like  a  golden  scarf  between  its  verduring 
banks ;  the  hum  of  commerce  grows  feebler ;  a  slight 
breeze  blows  up  from  the  Gulf;  and,  as  the  din 
of  day  grows  fainter,  the  cathedral  bells  begin  to 
chime.  It  is  the  call  to  vespers.  Directly,  the  flags 
of  every  nation,  English,  French,  Spanish,  Dutch, 
Danish,  Swedish,  Russian,  are  run  up  to  the  mast- 
head. 

The  sun  gone,  it  grows  rapidly  dark,  for  there 
is  no  twilight.  Still  the  wondering  pair  stroll  on, 
while  the  stars  begin  to  glimmer  above  their  heads 
and  the  round  moon  rises  red  and  full  over  the 
distant  bayous.  On  they  go,  bewitched  by  these 


110  ZACHARY  PHIP8. 

strange  foreign  sights  and  sounds :  the  negroes  sing- 
ing their  droll  French  and  Spanish  songs ;  the  show- 
boxes,  furnished  forth  with  a  glittering  store  of 
watches,  chains,  gewgaws,  pistols  of  every  form  and 
size,  and  murderous  bowie-knives. 

One  of  these  last  caught  Sandy's  eye,  and  he 
stopped  to  barter  for  it.  With  its  blade  twelve 
inches  long,  its  edge  perfect  as  a  razor,  its  point 
curved  and  hollowed  at  the  back,  designed  to  cut 
both  ways,  with  its  heel  broad  and  thick  and  heavy, 
it  was  indeed  a  weapon  to  make  one  shudder.  Zach 
laid  it  down  with  an  uncomfortable  feeling,  and 
noted  with  wonder  the  look  of  regret  in  Sandy's 
face  that  he  could  not  buy  it. 

Passing  up  a  street  which  led  into  the  heart  of 
the  town,  they  came  upon  a  building  lighted  as 
brightly  as  was  possible  in  those  days  of  oil  and  tal- 
low. A  placard  affixed  to  the  facade  bore  in  large 
letters  the  word  "Marionettes."  The  subjoined 
text  being  in  French,  Zach  could  not  make  it  out, 
and  turned  to  his  companion  for  an  explanation. 
Sandy  shook  his  head. 

At  that  moment  the  crowd  began  to  pour  out  of 
the  little  theatre.  The  performance  was  over.  Zach 
and  Sandy  stepped  aside  to  make  room.  Presently, 
in  the  midst  of  the  throng,  Zach  heard  a  childish 
voice  ask  the  very  question  which  had  just  dropped 
from  his  own  lips. 

"What  are  Marionettes,  papa?  " 

Turning,  he  saw  a  little  girl  holding  by  the  hand 
a  tall,  middle-aged  man,  and  followed  by  a  negro 
nurse. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  Ill 

"Marionettes,  my  pet,  are  a  kind  of  people  very 
much  like  human  beings,  only  with  much  more  sense 
and  politeness." 

Puzzling  over  this  answer,  Zach  glanced  up  at  the 
speaker's  face.  As  seen  in  the  uncertain  light,  it 
was  severely  grave. 

"Oh,  papa,  look, — see!"  broke  forth  the  child, 
pointing  to  an  old  negress  selling  flowers.  "Get 
me  some!  " 

Tossing  a  coin  mechanically  into  the  old  woman's 
tray,  the  gentleman  chose  the  finest  nosegay  and 
handed  it  to  the  child,  who,  in  running  back  to  show 
it  to  the  nurse,  lost  off  her  hat.  Thrust  forward  by 
a  pressure  from  behind,  Zach  set  his  muddy  foot  full 
upon  it.  Covered  with  confusion,  he  picked  it  up 
and  handed  it  to  the  little  owner  with  a  muttered 
apology. 

"You  bad,  naughty  boy,"  cried  the  child,  looking 
at  the  soiled  headgear  in  disgust.  "You  have 
spoiled  my  new  hat.  I  will  never,  never  wear  it 
again!  "  saying  which  she  tossed  it  under  the  feet  of 
the  passing  crowd.  Her  father,  looking  back,  saw 
the  movement,  but  made  no  remark.  He  quietly 
took  out  his  handkerchief  and  tied  it  about  her  head. 

"How  funny  you  will  make  me  look,  papa! 
Mimi,  Mimi,  see  what  papa  is  doing!  Oh,  it  will 
make  all  the  people  laugh.  Now,  Mimi,  you  may 
carry  the  flowers  till  we  get  home.  No,  no,  don't 
you  take  my  hand!  Papa  must!  " 

The  father  indulgently  held  out  his  hand. 

"Now,  Mimi, "continued  the  little  autocrat,  "you 
must  walk  in  front  of  us  so  I  can  see  the  flowers." 


112  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

The  docile  nurse  went  on  as  she  was  told. 

"Please,  papa,"  was  the  next  request,  "I  am 
tired.  Won't  you  carry  me?  " 

Without  a  word  the  stranger  picked  up  the  weary 
little  lady,  who,  as  she  nestled  down  upon  his  shoul- 
der, asked  sleepily,  — 

"Dear  papa!" 

"Yes,  darling." 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  see  the  Marionettes  some 
other  time?" 

"Yes,  pet,  as  many  times  as  you  like." 

Spellbound  by  this  talk  and  byplay,  so  different 
from  domestic  scenes  in  Salutation  Alley,  Zach  stood 
gazing  after  the  strangers  until  they  were  lost  in  the 
crowd.  Mechanically,  then,  he  followed  the  yawn- 
ing Sandy  back  to  the  levee,  where,  with  other  va- 
grants, they  found  a  bed  among  the  cotton-bales. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

ALTHOUGH  next  day  was  Sunday,  when  all  the 
world  takes,  as  matter  of  right,  an  extra  morning 
nap,  Zach  and  Sandy  were  stirring  betimes.  It  was 
indeed  Hobson's  choice  with  them,  for  the  sun 
glared  so  fiercely  in  their  sky -turned  faces  that  they 
were  glad  to  be  up  and  away. 

For  want  of  anything  better  to  do,  they  wandered 
about  the  town.  It  proved  to  be  quite  unlike  any 
place  they  had  ever  seen.  The  narrow  streets  were 
not  only  abominably  muddy,  but  they  abounded  in 
holes  and  ruts,  and  were  bordered  on  either  side  by 
gutters  half  filled  with  stagnant  water,  into  which 
each  householder  thought  himself  privileged  to  fling 
what  filth  he  would. 

The  houses,  too,  were  odd  and  not  wholly  prepos- 
sessing. They  were  for  the  most  part  of  Spanish 
type ;  low,  unpainted,  one  -  story  buildings,  black- 
ened from  exposure  to  the  weather,  with  moss-grown 
roofs  jutting  out  over  the  footpaths  below.  During 
the  day,  moreover,  they  had  a  gloomy,  prison-like 
air,  owing  to  the  jealous  Spanish  custom  of  keeping 
doors  and  windows  tightly  closed;  but  at  night,  as 
Zach  afterwards  discovered,  they  had  quite  another 
aspect,  when  the  heavy  wooden  shutters  stood  ajar, 
and  glimpses  of  the  bright,  peering  eyes,  jeweled 
hands,  and  waving  fans  of  the  Spanish  beauties 


114  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

within  excited  the  admiration  and  curiosity  of  the 
passers-by. 

Wandering,  chance-led,  the  two  new-comers  ar- 
rived presently  at  the  market,  then  as  now  one  of 
the  marked  features  of  the  city. 

It  stood  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  a  near  neigh- 
bor to  the  cathedral  and  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and 
over  against  the  Place  d' Armes,  —  a  large  patch  of 
greensward  planted  with  oranges,  lemons,  myrtles, 
roses,  and  jessamine. 

Early  as  it  was,  business  had  already  begun. 
Strange  sights  and  sounds  abounded  on  every  hand, 
of  which  to  Zach  the  humanity  was  the  drollest  part. 
The  negroes  especially  delighted  him.  He  laughed 
aloud  at  the  little  pickaninnies,  with  their  bare  legs, 
ragged  straw  hats,  roguish  eyes,  and  French  lingo. 
He  stared  in  awe  at  the  wenches,  with  their  towering 
turbans  and  dangling  earrings,  sitting  so  majes- 
tically amidst  their  heaps  of  poultry,  vegetables, 
flowers,  sweet  herbs,  and  honey. 

The  fruit-stalls  next  awakened  his  admiration. 
With  what  tropical  lavishness  they  were  loaded,  and 
what  a  luscious  odor  hung  about  them!  Gazing, 
his  bosom  swelled  with  a  retrospective  regret,  as  he 
thought  of  the  weary  hours  he  had  wasted  robbing 
the  sour-apple  orchards  of  the  North  End.  But, 
outdoing  all  these  things,  fine  as  they  seemed,  were 
the  venders  of  monkeys,  lap-dogs,  and  parrots,  who 
invariably  held  Zach  speechless  and  fascinated  until 
Sandy  drew  him  forcibly  away. 

The  first  little  shock  which  he  had  felt  on  find- 
ing the  market  open  on  Sunday  soon  passed  away. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  115 

Indeed,  what  with  the  hurly-burly  and  the  babel  of 
languages,  no  one  impression  had  a  chance  to  gain 
lodgment  in  his  mind  save,  perhaps,  a  lasting  sur- 
prise as  to  how  all  these  folks  understood  each  other, 
for  no  two  seemed  to  be  speaking  the  same  tongue, 
and  there  was  scarcely  a  word  of  good  honest  Eng- 
lish amongst  it  all. 

Thanks  to  these  varied  diversions,  the  time  slipped 
quickly  by,  and  the  morning  was  nearly  half  spent 
when  a  savory  odor  near  at  hand  reminded  the  pair 
that  they  had  not  breakfasted.  Turning  about  they 
found  themselves  before  the  stall  of  a  fat  negress 
selling  hot  sausages  and  potatoes.  Noting  with 
experienced  eye  the  hungry  look  in  their  faces,  she 
hailed  them. 

"lei,  Mess'rs!  les  saucissons,  pour  les  deux? 
Bien!  Pommes-de-terre  chaudes.  C'est  ca!  Via! 
Mangez! " 

After  breakfast  they  sauntered  over  to  the  Place 
d'Armes  to  smoke  their  pipes  there.  As  they  lay 
upon  the  grass,  the  chimes,  beginning  to  ring,  drew 
their  attention  to  the  cathedral.  Although  the 
most  considerable  building  in  the  town,  it  was  far 
from  imposing,  and,  on  the  whole,  rather  a  mean- 
looking  structure.  Seeing  the  doors  open  and  the 
people  going  in,  Zach  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  take  a 
peep  at  the  interior.  Leaving  Sandy  to  his  pipe, 
therefore,  he  traversed  the  Place,  crossed  the  street, 
mounted  the  long  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  made  his 
way  in.  His  curiosity  was  quickly  satisfied;  save 
for  the  altar,  it  proved  quite  as  bald  and  bare  as  the 
meeting-houses  at  home. 


116  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Having  no  desire  to  stay  through  the  service,  he 
turned  to  come  away,  but  found  it  not  so  easy  as 
going  in.  A  throng  of  persons  had  already  arrived, 
and  the  vestibule  was  crowded.  By  dint  of  pushing, 
however,  he  at  last  reached  the  street,  where,  hav- 
ing forced  his  way  through  a  procession  of  nuns  who 
stood  waiting  to  file  into  the  cathedral,  he  found 
himself  again  at  the  entrance  to  the  Place  d'Armes. 
There,  in  the  gateway,  looking  about  with  a  dazed 
expression,  stood  the  little  girl  whom  he  had  seen 
at  the  Marionettes. 

With  a  look  of  interest,  Zach  stopped  to  observe 
her.  She  was  dressed  with  much  elegance,  and, 
mite  as  she  was,  had  an  indefinable  air  of  distinc- 
tion. Doubtless  it  was  this  suggestion  of  something 
about  her  foreign  to  his  own  experience  which  riv- 
eted Zach's  attention.  The  child,  meanwhile,  with 
increasing  dismay,  stood  looking  this  way  and  that, 
crying  constantly,  — 

"Mimi!  Mimi!  Come  here,  Mimi!  Stop  hid- 
ing, haughty  Mimi ! " 

Zach  looked  about  to  discover  the  teasing  or 
neglectful  nurse,  but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
Whereupon,  approaching  the  child  with  an  awkward 
air,  he  asked,  — 

"What 's  the  matter,  little  girll  " 

The  child  looked  at  him  without  recognition. 
Zach  breathed  freer  and  proceeded  with  more  confi- 
dence. 

"Are  you  lost?" 

"No.     Mimi 's  lost." 

"Where  did  Mimi  go?" 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  117 

"Over  there!"  pointing  to  the  market  still 
crowded  with  loungers. 

"Come  with  me  and  we'll  go  find  her!"  said 
Zach,  offering  his  hand. 

Raising  again  her  tearful  eyes,  the  child  bent  one 
inquiring  look  upon  her  new  friend,  and  directly  put 
her  soft,  velvety  palm  in  his  rough  hand  with  an  air 
of  complete  confidence. 

Zach  on  his  part  looked  down  upon  the  little 
creature  who  had  so  trustingly  put  herself  under  his 
guidance  with  the  proud,  protecting  air  with  which 
he  might  have  regarded  a  beautiful  bird  which  had 
come  to  perch  upon  his  finger.  Carefully  he  chose 
the  cleanest  place  to  cross  the  street;  scrupulously 
he  guarded  the  delicate  figure  from  contact  with  the 
jostling  crowd,  as  they  threaded  their  way  in  and  out 
among  the  booths  and  stalls  of  the  market,  demand- 
ing meanwhile  of  every  intelligent -looking  negress 
news  of  Mimi.  With  one  accord,  they  all  shook 
their  heads,  or  answered  in  their  French  jargon, 
which  he  could  not  understand. 

Having  thoroughly  searched  the  market  to  no 
purpose,  they  took  their  way  back  to  the  cathe- 
dral, where  the  service  was  already  over  and  the 
congregation  dispersed.  Bethinking  him,  then,  of 
Sandy,  Zach  led  his  charge  over  to  the  Place,  and 
found  his  shipmate  asleep  on  the  very  spot  where 
he  had  left  him. 

"Wall,  what  's  up?  "  asked  the  skipper  on  being 
aroused. 

" This  little  girl" - 

"Hello!  wher  'd  ye  pick  her  up?" 


118  ZACHABY  PHIP8. 

"She  's  lost,  and  we  got  to  find  her  folks." 

Sandy  yawned  again  and  reflected. 

"Wher  d'  ye  live,  sissy?" 

"I  live  at  Basswood." 

"  Sho !"  commented  the  skipper,  with  a  puzzled 
look.  "Basswood,  eh?" 

"That  's  my  papa's  place." 

"Wall,  they  forgot  to  put  thet  down  in  my  g'og- 
raphy,  so  I  reckon  the  best  thing  we  can  do,  Bub, 
is  to  go  to  the  mayor's  office." 

No  better  plan  suggesting  itself,  the  three  set  off, 
and  by  dint  of  repeating  mare  to  every  intelligent- 
looking  person,  arrived  in  time  at  the  house  of  the 
chief  magistrate. 

The  official  residence  proved  to  be  a  typical  speci- 
men of  the  better  sort  of  Spanish  dwellings.  The 
ground  floor  was  occupied  by  the  horses,  the  next 
above  by  the  hay -mows,  while  the  third,  or  upper 
story  only  was  reserved  for  the  owner  himself. 

As  the  mayor  had  not  yet  returned  from  mass, 
they  were  given  seats  in  his  office.  A  half  hour 
passed,  and  a  step  was  heard  upon  the  stairs ;  pres- 
ently the  door  opened,  and  there  appeared  the  man 
whom  Zach  had  seen  at  the  Marionettes.  Before 
the  new-comer  had  time  to  speak,  the  child  threw 
herself  into  his  arms  with  a  cry  of  delight. 

"Papa,  oh,  papa,  I  'm  so  glad  you  've  come,  for 
I  'm  lost.  Mimi  lost  me;  and  this  good  little  boy, 
he  found  me  and  took  me  here ;  and  this  other  man," 
pointing  to  the  skipper,  "he  's  a  friend  of  the  little 
boy,  and  he  came,  too." 

The  look  of  concern  with  which  the  stranger  en- 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  119 

tered  the  room  quickly  gave  place  to  one  of  relief 
when  he  beheld  his  child  alive  and  well.  Taking 
her  in  his  arms,  he  looked  her  all  over  with  careful 
scrutiny  as  if  to  assure  himself  that  she  had  suffered 
no  harm,  listening  perfunctorily  the  while  as  she 
told  again  and  again,  with  infantile  persistence,  of 
her  visit  to  the  market  and  the  Place  with  the  good 
little  boy. 

"And  so  this  is  the  good  little  boy?"  said  the 
stranger  at  last,  turning  towards  Zach  and  speaking 
with  an  English  accent,  which  somehow  seemed  to 
accord  especially  well  with  his  indifferent,  half  in- 
dolent manner. 

"I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you,  my  lad,"  he  went 
on,  in  a  tone  of  quiet  condescension  which  was  not 
without  impressiveness,  "  greatly  obliged,  I  am  sure, 
for  the  care  you  took  of  my  little  runaway.  She 
was  very  fortunate  to  fall  into  such  good  hands." 

Drawing  from  his  pocket,  as  he  spoke,  a  piece  of 
money,  he  made  a  move  to  slip  it  into  Zach's  hand. 
To  his  boundless  astonishment,  a  hot  flush  overspread 
the  face  of  the  boy,  who  snatched  his  hand  away, 
leaving  the  coin  to  fall  to  the  floor. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Bub !  "  put  in  Sandy.  "Don't 
ever  refuse  to  take  hard  money  when  ye  can  come 
by  it  honest! " 

"Take  it,  you,  then!  "said  the  stranger,  pointing 
to  the  coin. 

"No,"  said  the  skipper  promptly,  "  'twar  n't 
meant  for  me,  an'  I  hain't  done  nothin'  for  it." 

Meantime,  Zach,  who  had  edged  towards  the 
door,  made  a  sign  to  Sandy,  and  lifted  the  latch. 


120  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Directly,  the  child,  springing  from  her  father's  lap, 
ran  to  intercept  him. 

" Don't  go  away !  Don't  go,  little  boy !  Tell  him 
not  to  go,  papa!  " 

"Wait  a  bit,  my  lad!  "  said  the  stranger,  in  the 
tone  of  one  used  to  being  obeyed. 
*  "Make  him  come  home  with  us,  papa!"  whis- 
pered the  little  girl,  as  she  climbed  again  upon  her 
father's  knee;  "I  want  him  to  play  with  me;" 

The  words  seemed  suggestive  to  the  stranger,  for 
after  a  minute's  silent  scrutiny  of  the  pair  before 
him,  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  — 

"You  are  sailors,  my  men?" 

"Wall,  gin'rally  speakin',  you're  pooty  near 
right;  but  jest  now  we  ain't  much  o'  anythin',"  an- 
swered Sandy. 

"You  are  out  of  work,  then?  " 

"Yeah;  an'  on  the  lookout  for  a  job." 

The  stranger  mused  for  a  minute. 

"Are  you  competent  to  sail  a  vessel?  " 

"I  reckon;  anythin'  from  a  man-of-war  to  a  mud- 
scow." 

"Humph!  Can  you  bring  me  a  good  character 
from  your  last  sailing-master?  " 

"No,  mister,  I  can't  bring  you  no  character  from 
anybody  in  this  port.  I  hain't  got  nothin'  to  say 
'bout  how  we  come  to  be  here,  neither.  The  man 
thet  takes  us  '11  hev  to  go  by  looks  an'  trust  his 
luck,  an'  ef  he  ain't  willin'  to  do  thet,  ther  's  no 
use  talkin'." 

Rather  favorably  impressed,  as  it  seemed,  by  this 
blunt  confession,  the  stranger  studied  the  pair  with 
renewed  attention. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  121 

"I  don't  see  but  that  you  would  answer  my  pur- 
pose," he  pursued,  as  if  thinking  aloud.  "I  am 
building  a  yacht  at  my  plantation  in  Lake  Pont- 
chartrain,  and  shall  need  somebody  by  and  by  to 
sail  her.  If  a  larger  crew  is  necessary,  we  can 
always  work  in  one  or  two  of  the  slaves." 

Zach  stood  waiting  in  anxious  suspense,  while 
Sandy  coolly  pondered  the  matter. 

"How  big  is  thet  ere  lake  o'  yourn,  cap'n?  " 

"  Forty  miles  long  and  half  as  many  wide,  in  round 
numbers." 

"Humph!" 

It  was  another  case  of  fresh  water.  Sandy  was 
not  enthusiastic.  The  fact  that  he  hesitated,  mean- 
while, had  the  natural  effect  of  making  the  stranger 
more  desirous  of  getting  him. 

"  Come  for  a  month,  at  any  rate,  and  make  a  trial 
of  it!"  he  urgec},  as  he  got  up  and  looked  at  his 
watch. 

"All  right,  cap'n,  thet 's  fair,  an'  I  guess  we'll 
doit;  d'ye  hear,  Bub?" 

Zach  let  his  silence  be  taken  for  consent  as  he 
stood  with  the  latch  in  his  hand,  listening  to  an  elo- 
quent description  of  Basswood  from  the  little  girl, 
while  her  father  wrote  some  directions  on  a  card. 

"  If  you  are  of  the  same  mind  to-morrow  morning, 
come  to  me  at  that  address,"  said  the  stranger,  hand- 
ing the  card.  "We  set  out  for  home  directly  after 
breakfast,  and  you  shall  go  with  us." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EARLY  next  morning,  Zach  and  Sandy  betook 
themselves  to  the  tavern  where  their  new  employer 
lodged.  They  found  him  at  breakfast  with  his  little 
daughter,  who  was  perched  in  a  high  chair  by  his 
side. 

He  greeted  them  civilly,  without  neglecting  the 
orange  he  was  eating,  and  contrived  to  give  them  the 
necessary  directions  for  their  approaching  journey, 
without  for  a  moment  interrupting  his  table-talk 
with  the  loquacious  little  body  at  his  side. 

"Understand,  then:  you  meet  us  at  the  landing," 
he  repeated,  as  they  turned  to  withdraw.  "  We  go 
by  the  Carondelet  canal,  on  account  of  the  luggage. 
If  you  do  not  loiter  on  the  way,  you  may  be  there 
before  us,  and  help  Fra^ois,  my  valet,  put  the  things 
aboard  the  boat." 

"  All  right,  cap'n  —  but  who  "  —  Sandy  stopped 
and  scratched  his  head. 

"True;  I  am  Mr.  William  Falconer,  at  your  ser- 
vice, and  this  is  my  daughter,  Miss  Sylvia." 

The  child  got  down  from   her   high   chair   and 
gravely  curtsied ;  then,  taking  two  oranges  from  the 
table,  she  presented  one  to  Sandy  and  the  other  — 
noticeably  the  larger  —  to  Zach,  saying,  — 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  coming  to  live  at  Basswood, 
for  then  you  can  see  our  new  boat,  —  it  is  named 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  123 

after  me.  You  '11  like  to  live  at  Basswood  the  best 
of  anywhere  you  ever,  ever  lived  in  the  world!  " 

The  party  duly  met  at  the  landing,  and  embarked 
on  the  clumsy  and  not  over-clean  canal-boat.  Mr. 
Falconer's  warning  to  his  new  recruits  that  they 
would  find  the  journey  tedious  proved  well  founded ; 
floating  through  the  sluggish  canal  in  the  wake  of 
the  tow-horses  was  the  slowest  form  of  water  travel 
that  Sandy  had  ever  experienced.  The  situation, 
in  fact,  proved  quite  beyond  his  reach  of  criticism. 
He  sat  gazing  at  the  stagnant  water  with  a  look  of 
settled  melancholy,  save  when  by  chance  he  raised 
his  eyes  and  caught  sight  of  the  plodding  tow-horses 
driven  by  a  lazy,  bare-legged  negro,  when,  hitching 
in  his  seat,  he  swallowed  the  expletive  which  rose 
to  his  lips,  as  something  altogether  inadequate  to 
the  occasion. 

His  discontent,  however,  speedily  vanished  when, 
upon  coming  to  Lake  Pontchartrain,  they  were  met 
by  a  cool  and  invigorating  breeze. 

"Ah-h-h!"  exclaimed  the  transformed  skipper, 
turning  about  and  sniffing  like  an  old  war-horse  at 
the  smell  of  gunpowder,  "there  's  salt  in  that!  " 

Zach  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"That 's  the  sea,  Bub,  — the  sea;  don't  ye  smell 
it?  We  hain't  had  a  breath  like  that  this  many  a 
day!" 

"The  sea!  "  repeated  Zach,  gazing  stupidly  at  the 
lake  before  him. 

"Yes,  yonder,"  interposed  Mr.  Falconer,  pointing, 
as  he  spoke,  in  the  opposite  direction,  to  a  broad,  blue 
expanse  which  bounded  the  southern  horizon.  "The 


124  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

skipper  is  right ;  it  is  the  sea,  —  or  rather  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  all  the  same  thing." 

Mr.  Falconer,  as  it  proved,  lived  on  the  straggling 
isthmus  which  separates  lakes  Pontchartrain  and 
Borgne,  the  latter  being  in  effect  an  inlet  of  the 
Gulf,  where  he  owned  a  fine  sugar  plantation. 

Here  was  a  new  phase  of  life  for  Zach,  and  matter 
for  wonder  on  every  hand :  the  broad  fields  waving 
with  unfamiliar  crops;  the  negroes  busily  at  work 
among  the  growing  canes  with  their  clumsy  hoes ;  the 
slave -quarters,  a  double  row  of  little  cabins  which 
they  drove  past  on  the  way  from  the  boat ;  and  chief 
of  all,  bounding  their  vision  to  the  north,  the  wide- 
spreading  Pontchartrain. 

After  a  short  drive  they  approached  the  house.  It 
stood  upon  rising  ground,  with  a  fine  greensward 
sweeping  away  to  the. lake.  On  the  right  it  was 
flanked  by  a  thick  growth  of  oranges,  lemons,  and 
oleanders;  and  on  the  left  by  a  large  two-story 
square  dove-cot,  the  universal  appendage  of  a  sugar- 
planter's  house. 

The  house  itself  greatly  stirred  Zach's  curiosity. 
It  was  an  old  Creole  structure,  which  its  present 
owner  had  enlarged  without  materially  changing.  A 
hodge-podge  architecturally,  it  was  perhaps  on  that 
account  all  the  more  picturesque.  Low  and  ram- 
bling, with  its  lower  story  of  brick  and  the  upper  of 
wood,  it  was  furnished  on  three  sides  with  a  broad 
gallery  overhung  by  the  extended  roof,  which  gave 
it  a  commodious  and  hospitable  air.  The  gallery 
was  supported  by  round  brick  columns,  whose  bare- 
ness was  relieved  by  trellises  over  which  clambered 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  125 

the  Cherokee-rose,  now  white  with  blossoms.  The 
second  story  alone  was  occupied  by  the  family,  the 
ground  floor  being  given  up  to  the  slaves. 

Meantime  the  carriage,  winding  up  the  avenue, 
stopped  at  last  before  the  hall  door,  where  the  steps 
and  the  whole  lower  gallery  were  crowded  with  ne- 
groes of  all  ages,  gathered  to  welcome  their  master 
and  young  mistress. 

"Let  me  down,  — do  let  me  down,  quick,  papa!  " 
cried  the  latter,  springing  from  her  father 'if  arms 
into  the  very  midst  of  the  expectant  throng. 

"Children,  oh,  children,"  she  went  on,  including 
in  the  term  hearers  of  all  ages,  "I  've  got  such  beau- 
tiful things  for  you.  Ribbons  for  you,  Fifine,  nice 
red  ones;  some  yellow  ones  for  you,  Zenobie,  to 
wear  with  your  new  yellow  frock;  a  turban  for  you, 
mammy;  a  silver  thimble  for  you,  Lisette;  some 
beads  for  you,  Sappho ;  and  candy  for  the  pickanin- 
nies. Wait  till  they  bring  my  box,  —  there  it  is ! 
there  it  is  now,  and  that  is  the  new  boy  helping  to 
carry  it.  That  is  Zach ;  he  found  me  when  Mimi 
lost  me.  It  was  very  bad  of  Mimi,  but  she  cried  and 
said  she  did  n't  mean  to,  and  so  papa  did  n't  sell  her. 
That  big  tall  man  over  there  is  Sandy,  he  is  Zach's 
friend;  they  are  sailors,  and  they  are  going  to  sail 
papa's  new  boat." 

While  -Sylvia  was  thus  flying  about  among  the 
women,  chattering  like  a  magpie,  her  father,  after 
returning  the  greetings  of  his  servants,  talked  apart 
with  a  middle-aged  mulatto  whom  he  presently  in- 
troduced to  Zach  and  Sandy. 

"This,  boys,  is  my  steward  Gabriel;  he  will  look 


126  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

out  for  you,  and  by  and  by,  when  I  get  time,  I  will 
take  you  down  and  show  you  the  boat." 

Zach  was  relieved  to  find  that  Mr.  Falconer's 
house-servants,  although  they  had  French  names, 
for  the  most  part  talked  English,  having  been 
brought  from  Nassau,  where  their  master  had  other 
large  plantations. 

When  the  dinner-hour  arrived,  the  new  recruits 
were  ushered  into  a  room  on  the  ground  floor,  where 
seats  kad  been  assigned  them  at  the  servants'  table. 
Glancing  at  the  two  long  rows  of  dusky  faces  gath- 
ered at  the  board,  Zach  flushed  violently,  and 
marched  out  of  the  house. 

Sandy,  thinking  only  of  satisfying  his  hunger,  sat 
quietly  down,  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  had 
often  met  with  worse  fare  and  rougher  company. 
Not  unnaturally  a  little  merriment,  half  stifled  in  the 
sleeves  of  the  younger  fry  over  Zach's  exit,  broke 
forth  into  a  loud  titter  on  Sandy's  calling  out,  — 

"Oh,  come  back,  Bub!  Come  along  an'  git  yer 
grub !  They  won't  bite  ye ! " 

Giving  no  lieed  to  the  admonition,  Zach  went 
and  sulked  in  the  gallery.  Here,  as  it  chanced, 
Gabriel  came  upon  him,  and  inquired  what  was  the 
matter. 

"I  ain't  goin'  to  eat  in  there  with  them,"  said 
Zach,  pouting. 

"  Whar,  den,  d'  ye  spec  fer  to  eat,  honey?  "asked 
Gabriel,  not  without  a  touch  of  satire. 

"Don'  know,  'n'  don't  care,"  muttered  Zach. 

"Mebbe  yo'  spec  ter  eat  upstars  wid  de  gran- 
dees." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  127 

"None  o'  your  business  what  I  expect,"  fired  up 
Zach,  walking  off  upon  the  lawn. 

"Look  a-yer,  now,  honey,  lemrae  give  yo'  a  word 
o'  wisdom!  Ef  yo'  want  suffin'  ter  eat,  yo'  '11  eat 
it,  whar  't  is,  'n'  ef  yo'  lef  it,  yo'  's  gwine  ter  go 
hungry;  mind  dat  now,  honey!  " 

"I  '11  starve  to  death  'fore  I  '11  eat  with  niggers," 
flared  up  Zach,  whirling  around  defiantly  upon  Ga- 
briel. 

"All  right,  honey;  jes  sot  right  ter  work!  No- 
body ain't  gwine  for  ter  hinder." 

With  these  words  the  major-domo  went  his  way, 
leaving  Zach  to  his  own  devices.  Throwing  himself 
on  the  grass  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  the  pouting  young- 
ster raised  his  eyes  and  received  a  shock.  There, 
just  above  him  in  the  gallery,  smoking  his  after- 
dinner  cigar,  sat  Falconer,  within  easy  earshot  of 
the  late  conversation-. 

Zach  dropped  his  head  in  dismay,  and  waited  for 
the  expected  storm  of  disapproval  to  manifest  it- 
self. After  a  long  interval  he  again  stole  a  glance 
upward.  Falconer  had  disappeared.  Feeling  sure 
that  measures  were  being  taken  for  his  punishment, 
Zach  started  up  as  if  with  an  impulse  to  escape,  but 
restrained  by  a  feeling  of  pride,  he  lay  down  again, 
and  nerved  himself  to  meet  the  consequences. 

They  were  not  long  in  developing.  An  old  ne- 
gress  in  a  yellow  turban  presently  approached  from 
the  direction  of  the  kitchen,  bearing  a  heaped-up 
plate  of  dinner,  which  she  coaxingly  beguiled  him  to 
eat. 

Other  results  of  Zach's  rebellion  followed,  equally 


128  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

agreeable  and  equally  puzzling  to  him.  Next  day 
Gabriel,  evidently  under  orders  which  he  executed 
with  no  very  good  grace,  quartered  the  new  crew  in 
the  loft  over  the  boat-house,  which  he  hastily  fitted 
up  for  their  reception  with  a  couple  of  pallet  beds, 
a  table,  and  some  stools.  Their  meals,  he  informed 
them  a  little  sulkily,  were  to  be  brought  down  to 
them  from  the  house. 

Zach  was  scarcely  more  delighted  at  the  change 
than  Sandy.  The  loft  was  big  and  empty,  and,  al- 
though it  had  no  window,  opened  at  the  gable-end 
with  a  wide  door  upon  the  lake,  which  gave  them  not 
only  plenty  of  air,  but  an  unobstructed  view  of  the 
water. 

They  had  scarcely  got  settled  in  their  new  quar- 
ters when  Sylvia  made  her  appearance.  She  showed 
no  disposition  to  neglect  her  new  friends.  Every 
day,  after  lessons,  she  came  with  Mimi  to  the  boat- 
house.  She  brought  thither  her  dolls  and  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  dolldom.  Indeed,  as  presently  ap- 
peared, she  took  a  far  greater  delight  in  playing 
on  the  cramped  little  gallery  crowded  with  boating 
gear,  than  on  the  spacious  corridors  at  home.  Sandy 
at  first  grumbled  a  good  deal  at  having  the  place 
littered  with  "women's  fixin's,"  but  the  busy  little 
lady  soon  silenced  the  growler  by  taking  him  into 
her  confidence  and  appealing  to  him,  when  Zach 
gave  stupid  advice  as  to  the  health  or  management 
of  her  numerous  family. 

Zach,  as  it  proved,  often  gave  stupid  advice,  and 
Sylvia  had  frequent  occasion  to  lecture  him. 

His  docility  under  this  discipline,  and  his  general 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  129 

submission  to  the  whims  of  his  fair  little  tyrant, 
were  matters  of  much  wonder  to  the  skipper,  mind- 
ful of  his  own  experience  of  certain  stubborn  traits 
in  the  character  of  his  comrade. 

But  as  he  presently  discovered,  the  leopard  had 
not  so  quickly  changed  his  spots. 

The  children  were  seated  one  day  on  the  boat- 
house  gallery ;  Sylvia  looking  on  while  Zach  made 
a  gum-tree  dugout. 

"  Would  you  be  afraid  if  a  great  big  whale  should 
come  right  out  of  the  lake  to  eat  you  up?  " 

"No." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  whale?  " 

"No." 

"How  do  you  know  you  wouldn't  be  afraid, 
then?" 

"'Cos  I  would  n't."  , 

"Are  you  afraid  of  anything?  " 

"I  guess  not." 

"Not  of  the  dark?" 

"Ho,  no!  "  contemptuously. 

"/  am,  and  I'm  afraid  of  whales,  too.  Mimi 
says  there  are  great  big  ones  in  the  lake  with  mouths 
as  big, — as  big  as  that!"  measuring  with  her 
hands,  "and  that  they  will  jump  out  of  the  water 
and  eat  me  right  up,  if  I  come  down  here  alone!  " 

"Mimi  is  a  liar!" 

"Oh,  you  naughty  boy!  That's  a  bad,  wicked 
word!" 

"What  is?" 

"What  you  said."      . 

Zach  made  no  defense  of  his  language,  but  took 


130  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

refuge  from  further  criticism  in  silence.  His  com- 
panion, however,  did  not  leave  him  long  at  rest. 

"Is  that  for  me?" 

"What?" 

"That  boat  you  're  making." 

"'T  ain't  for  anybody." 

"Why  not?" 

"'Cos  it  won't  be  good  for  anythin'." 

"It  '11  be  good  enough  for  me,  an'  I  want  it." 

"Well,  you  can  have  it,  then." 

"Here  comes  Mimi!  She's  comin'  to  take  me 
home.  You  can  come,  too,  and  eat  dinner  with 
us." 

"I  don't  want  to." 

"  Papa  won '  t  care. ' ' 

The  boat-maker  shook  his  head. 

"But  you'll  have  to  come  when  it  is  my  birth- 
day." 

There  was  another  and  emphatic  shake  of  the 
head. 

"You  must!" 

"No." 

"I  shall  be  very,  very  angry,  then." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Why  won't  you  come?  " 

"'Cos  I  don't  want  to." 

"That  isn't  a  reason." 

The  whittler  made  no  comment. 

"That  isn't  a  good  reason.  Do  you  hear?  Why 
don't  you  speak?  Papa  says  I  may  have  a  party  on 
my  birthday,  so  you  must  come.  Stop  shaking  your 
head,  naughty  Zach  I  Now,  hark !  I  am  going  to 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  131 

ask  you  very  nicely,  the  way  I  ask  papa  for  things : 
—  Please,  Zach,  will  you  come  to  my  party?  " 

"No." 

These  stubborn  moods  were  all  the  more  puzzling 
to  Sylvia,  for  being  in  such  marked  contrast  to  her 
companion's  every-day  humor.  His  indulgence  for 
her  caprices  was  indeed  well-nigh  boundless,  and  his 
resources  not  a  few.  He  personated  at  command 
all  the  beasts  of  the  field  and  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
now  flapping  his  wings  and  crowing  like  a  cock,  now 
fetching  and  carrying  sticks  like  a  dog  and  barking 
at  Mimi,  now  suffering  himself  to  be  harnessed  for 
a  horse  and  dragging  his  delighted  playmate  about 
with  such  speed  and  vigor  that  her  donkey  was  well- 
nigh  superseded. 

In  their  comings  and  goings  it  chanced  that  they 
occasionally  encountered  Falconer,  who  took  no  other 
note  of  them  than  to  bestow  an  absent-minded  smile 
upon  his  daughter. 

Meanwhile  the  constant  mention  of  Zach's  name 
in  the  schoolroom  at  last  aroused  Mrs.  Mason,  the 
fat  English  governess,  to  the  fact  that  this  new  play- 
mate was  becoming  a  very  important  personage  in 
the  life  of  her  young  charge.  Wherefore,  like  a 
prudent  woman,  she  thought  it  well  to  visit  the 
boat-house,  and  see  for  herself  whether  he  was  an 
eligible  companion. 

It  chanced  that  on  the  afternoon  of  Mrs.  Mason's 
visit  Zach  was  lying  on  the  grass  outside  the  boat- 
house,  smoking  his  pipe.  As  he  did  not  get  up  and 
bow  at  her  approach,  nor  take  off  his  hat,  nor  re- 
move his  pipe,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  shockingly 


132  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

ill-bred.  Mrs.  Mason  looked  about,  hesitated,  and 
at  last,  in  much  doubt,  asked,  — 

"Can  it  be  —  er  —  are  you  the  new  boy?  " 

"Yeah,  I  guess  I  be." 

"Is  your  name  Zach?  " 

"Yes,  marm,"  said  the  smoker,  first  calmly  spit- 
ting out  a  mouthful  of  tobacco-juice  to  give  play  to 
his  vocal  organs. 

"  Oh !  —  er  —  ah,  indeed !  "  commented  the  horror- 
stricken  governess,  turning  away. 

"D'  you  want  anythin'?  " 

"Nothing  at  all,"  was  the  decided  answer. 

Thereupon  returning  with  precipitancy  to  the 
house,  Mrs.  Mason  forbade  the  dismayed  Sylvia 
"ever  to  go  again  to  the  boat-house,  or  play  any 
more  with  that  dreadful,  low,  vulgar  little  boy!  " 

Being  busied  next  day  helping  Sandy  stretch  the 
new  sails  on  the  yacht,  Zach  had  no  leisure  to  re- 
mark Sylvia's  absence.  But  when  another  day 
passed,  and  still  another,  and  she  did  not  come,  he 
plainly  began  to  grow  uneasy.  This  feeling  was  con- 
firmed by  a  remark  carelessly  let  fall  by  Sandy  on 
coming  upon  a  forgotten  doll  on  the  window-ledge. 

"I  say,  Bub,"  said  the  skipper,  tenderly  taking 
the  puppet  in  his  rough  hand,  "I  guess  the  little  gal 
must  be  sick." 

Zach  looked  startled.  He  did  not  answer,  but 
went  out  and  sat  on  the  landing  and  brooded  over 
the  matter.  At  last,  seized  by  a  sudden  impulse,  he 
hurried  away  on  the  pretext  of  getting  some  oil  for 
the  lantern. 

Approaching  the  house,  he  was  conscious  of  sev- 


ZACUASY  PHIPS.  133 

eral  persons  in  the  upper  gallery.  Keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground,  he  hurried  along  to  the 
kitchen  door.  As  he  returned  across  the  lawn,  he 
was  discovered  and  hailed  from  the  gallery.  It  was 
Sylvia's  voice  that  called. 

He  stopped  and  looked  up.  There  was  a  commo- 
tion on  the  gallery.  A  family  discussion  was  going 
on,  of  which  Zach  guessed  himself  to  be  the  subject. 
Mrs.  Mason's  deep  contralto  was  heard  in  shocked 
tones  of  expostulation.  With  this  alternated  Fal- 
coner's resonant  baritone  in  a  long  duet. 

Meanwhile  Sylvia,  in  contempt  of  all  objection, 
rushed  down  the  stairs  and  went  bounding  to  her 
friend,  who  awaited  her  coming  with  an  expression 
oddly  compounded  of  pride  and  delight.  He  sur- 
rendered to  the  impulsive  grasp  of  the  little  maid, 
who  coaxed  him  to  stay  and  play  with  her.  He  cast 
a  deprecating  look  at  the  gallery.  Matters  there 
had  reached  a  crisis:  Mrs.  Mason,  in  consequence 
of  some  remark  of  the  planter,  was  in  the  act  of 
retiring  in  high  dudgeon. 

Shrewdly  interpreting  this  little  scene,  Sylvia 
seized  Zach's  arm,  and  despite  his  reluctance  drew 
him  to  a  seat  on  the  lower  gallery.  Falconer  noted 
the  movement  without  comment.  In  the  stillness  of 
the  summer  afternoon,  the  voices  of  the  children 
could  be  easily  heard  where  he  sat.  At  another 
time  their  words  might  have  passed  unheeded,  but 
now,  with  the  strictures  of  the  governess  still  sound- 
ing in  his  ears,  he  purposely  dropped  his  book  and 
listened. 

"You  are  not  a  low,  vulgar  boy,  are  you,  Zach?" 


134  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

asked  Sylvia.  Although  the  listener  could  not  see 
the  hot  blood  surge  over  Zach's  face,  and  the  big 
drops  of  sweat  stand  out  on  his  forehead,  the  fact 
that  the  question  went  unanswered  was  significant. 

"Are  you?  "  persisted  the  ingenuous  little  ques- 
tioner, busily  plaiting  some  strands  of  long  grass  as 
she  talked. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Zach,  huskily. 

"What  makes  you  smoke  a  pipe,  and  spit  on  the 
ground,  and  keep  on  your  hat  when  ladies  speak  to 
you?" 

Again  there  was  a  silence. 

"P'raps  your  mother  never  told  you  not  to." 

"I  hain't  got  any  mother." 

"So  I  haven't  got  any  mother,  too;  but  I  did 
have  one,  only  I  never  saw  her.  Please  go  and  pick 
me  some  more  grass  to  braid ! " 

Zach  went  mechanically  and  did  as  he  was  bid. 
Meantime  his  companion's  thoughts  had  taken  a 
turn. 

"What  are  you  going  to  be,  Zach,  when  you 
grow  up?  " 

The  boy  sat  sorting  the  blades  of  grass  with  a 
look  of  profound  preoccupation,  and  did  not  answer. 

"You  going  to  be  a  sailor?" 

He  nodded  absently. 

"On  a  big,  big  ship?" 

He  nodded  again. 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  be  a  sailor;"  the  prattler 
paused  to  adjust  a  refractory  strand ;  "a  sailor  wears 
such  bad  clothes,  and  has  such  dirty  hands." 

Casting  a  downward  glance  upon  his  coarse  boots 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  135 

and  trousers,  Zach  thrust  his  begrimed  hands  into 
his  pockets. 

"  /  should  like  to  be  a  man  like  papa,  and  have 
nice  white  hands  and  wear  clean  clothes  and  live  in 
a  big  house  and  have  lots  of  people  to  work,  would- 
n't you?" 

"No!  "  was  the  fierce  answer.  " I  'd  rather  be  just 
what  I  am,  an'  nothin'  else." 

With  these  words  he  sprang  from  the  bench  where 
he  had  been  sitting,  and  hurried  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  boat-house. 

An  amused  look  shone  in  Falconer's  eyes  as  he 
gazed  after  the  indignant  boy,  and,  yielding  to  a 
passing  impulse,  he  peeped  over  the  railing  at  his 
daughter  below.  She  sat  with  the  half-finished 
braid  in  her  hand,  gazing  after  her  companion  with 
a  look  of  profound  astonishment. 

After  a  few  minutes'  reflection,  she  came  upstairs 
and,  leaning  over  her  father's  shoulder,  asked,  — 

"  Papa,  would  you  rather  be  a  sailor  than  to  be 
you?" 

"No,  my  pet." 

"And  I  wouldn't  rather  be  Mimi  than  to  be  me. 
I  guess  everybody  would  rather  be  himself  than 
somebody  else." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

HAVING  finished  the  equipment  of  the  yacht  to 
his  mind,  and  thoroughly  tested  her  sailing  quali- 
ties, Sandy  sent  word  to  his  employer  that  she  was 
ready  for  service.  The  planter  promptly  appeared 
for  a  trial  trip.  The  wind  was  fluky,  and  the  con- 
ditions for  speed  were  not  at  the  best,  but  on  the 
whole  the  boat  behaved  well,  and  the  skipper  showed 
an  easy  mastery  over  her  which  did  not  escape  the 
eye  of  the  owner.  He  looked  pleased,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  he  did  not  look  displeased,  a  distinc- 
tion of  value  to  those  with  whom  his  moods  were 
important. 

Thenceforth  Sandy  found  his  place  no  sinecure. 
The  yacht  was  called  into  requisition  whenever  the 
weather  permitted,  and  like  a  new  toy  proved  a  val- 
uable resource  to  the  owner  and  his  guests  against 
the  tedium  of  plantation  life.  Sylvia,  who  was  usu- 
ally of  the  party,  soon  found  herself  very  much  at 
home  on  the  deck  of  her  namesake. 

By  such  constant  exercise,  Zach  made  rapid  strides 
in  seamanship.  Although  conservative  in  his  praises, 
Sandy  let  fall  a  dry  word  now  and  then  which  showed 
no  little  pride  in  his  pupil's  advancement. 

It  turned  out,  however,  that  besides  zeal  for 
Zach' s  advancement,  there  was  another  and  deeper 
purpose  underlying  the  skipper's  action, —  a  purpose 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  137 

which  Zach  found  not  a  little  discomposing  when 
his  companion  unguardedly  let  it  out. 

It  was  one  evening,  as  they  sat  on  the  landing 
puffing  their  pipes  and  watching  the  swaying  masts 
of  the  yacht,  as  she  lay  athwart  the  long  white  track 
of  the  moonlight. 

"Bub,"  began  Sandy,  knocking  out  his  ashes 
preparatory  to  a  fresh  charge,  "ye  're  gittin'  most 
growed  up,  ain't  ye?" 

"I  ain't  more  'n  half  way  up  to  your  shoulder, 
yet." 

"Oh,  wall,  ye  don't  want  to  pattern  after  no  such 
run-to-seed  pigweed  as  I  be.  I  'm  overgrowed ;  I 
war  n't  looked  after  when  I  was  a  youngster,  an'  I 
kep'  on  a-growin'  'cos  I  didn't  know  enough  to 
stop.  No,  ye  're  wall  enough  off  for  size.  Then 
agin  ye  're  beginnin'  to  hev  some  sense,  an'  are  get- 
tin'  more  handy  'bout  the  boat." 

Zach  looked  inquiringly  at  the  speaker,  but  could 
not  make  his  face  out  in  the  darkness. 

"No,"  pursued  Sandy,  "th'  ain't  nothin'  lackin' 
to  ye  now  'cept  time." 

The  listener  coughed  deprecatingly,  but  could 
think  of  nothing  to  say  to  such  an  unexpected 
tribute. 

"Ye  can  handle  that  little  critter,"  waving  his 
pipe  towards  the  yacht,  "as  good  as  I  can,  any  day 
in  the  week." 

"Ho!  "  ejaculated  Zach,  forced  into  a  protest  by 
such  extravagance. 

"I  know  wot  I  'm  talkin'  'bout.  I  kep  an  eye  on 
ye  to-day,  an'  I  say  I  can't  larn  ye  no  more  'bout 


138  ZACHARY  PUIPS. 

this  kind  o'  navigation.  Ye  '11  hev  to  git  the  rest 
for  yerself,  jes'  by  hard  knocks.  That  's  the  way  a 
man  gits  the  best  o'  wot  he  knows.  Nobody  ever 
larns  anythin'  from  anybody  else's  hard  knocks. 
He  don't  feel  'em,  an'  he  don't  b'lieve  in  'em  till  ho 
gits  knocked  himself.  Yes,  Bub,  ye  've  got  to  hev 
yer  own  scars  to  swear  by,  an'  ye  '11  git  'em  fast 
enough,  never  fear.  Thet  's  wot  we  was  all  made 
for,  I  reckon :  jes'  to  see  how  much  knockin'  down 
we  could  stan'  up  under.  Wall,  now,  that  bein'  the 
case,  I  mought  as  well  cast  off  one  time  as  another." 

"What  d'  you  mean  by  cast  off ?  " 

"Wall,  it  's  jest  here,  Bub:  this  critter's  like  a 
little  sandpeep,  it 's  kind  o'  child's  business  hand- 
lin'  of  her.  It  's  all  right  for  you,  but  th'  ain't  no 
kind  o'  need  o'  me  here." 

"What,  you  ain't  goin'  away,  be  yer?  " 

"I  dunno  's  I  be,  'n'  I  dunno  's  I  ain't.  I  ben  a 
thinkin',  that  's  all." 

"Where  be  you  goin'  to?" 

"When  it  comes  to  that,  young  un,  I  can't  go 
now'eres  till  I  start,  an'  I  ain't  started  yit." 

Zach  was  silent  for  several  minutes.  Meantime, 
the  fact  that  his  pipe  went  out  showed  the  effect 
upon  him  of  the  skipper's  disturbing  words.  With 
an  affectation  of  calmness  worthy  of  an  adult,  he 
presently  asked,  — 

"What  makes  you  want  to  go  away?  " 

"  Wall,  Bub,  fust  an'  foremost,  I  like  my  water 
salt.  I  ben  used  to  it,  'n'  I  git  tired  o'  this  puddle 
business.  Then  agin  — but,  ez  I  said  afore,  I  ain't 
sayln'  anythin',  I  'm  jest  a-thinkin'.  We  're  all  on 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  139 

us  thinkin',    'n'  a  precious  good  deal  on  it  never 
comes  to  nothin'." 

"Where  d'  ye  want  to  go  to?  "  pursued  Zach,  too 
much  stirred  up  to  drop  the  matter. 

"I  ain't  picked  out  no  spot,  fact  is,  I  don't  care 
much;  but  I  tell  ye  'twould  n't  do  for  anybody  to 
offer  me  a  two-year  cruise  'n'  expect  I  should  be 
bashful  'bout  clinchin'  the  bargain." 

"When  d'  yer  expect  to  go?"  persisted  Zach. 

"Look  a-here,  Bub!  what  's  the  matter  with  ye? 
Expect!  I  don't  expect  anythin',  any  time,  any- 
whar;  I  'm  thinkin',  1  tell  ye,  'n'  th'  ain't  nothin' 
more  to  be  said  'bout  it,  one  way  or  t'  other." 

Zach  asked  no  more  questions,  but  it  was  clear 
enough  from  his  manner  that  he  thought  Sandy  had 
said  too  much  or  not  enough. 

The  next  week  Falconer  had  a  visitor,  whom  Zach 
remarked  at  first  only  as  a  small,  sallow  man  with 
a  French  accent.  He  was  destined,  however,  to  see 
much  of  the  new-comer,  for,  on  his  account,  as  it  ap- 
peared, Falconer  suddenly  renewed  his  waning  in- 
terest in  yachting,  and  the  two  went  sailing  nearly 
every  day.  Seeing  them  together  thus  constantly, 
it  presently  began  to  dawn  upon  Zach  that  the 
planter  treated  his  guest  with  much  consideration, 
and  that  the  stranger  himself  had  an  air  of  intelli- 
gence out  of  all  proportion  to  his  insignificant  per- 
sonal appearance. 

Falconer  invariably  called  his  guest,  "Monsieur," 
a  name  which  Zach  soon  discovered  was  used  rather 
as  a  term  of  endearment  than  respect.  For  the 


140  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

rest,  it  soon  transpired  in  the  conversation  that  the 
stranger  was  a  noted  lawyer  from  New  Orleans,  and 
at  once  the  business  adviser  and  the  intimate  friend 
of  his  host.  In  the  talk  between  the  two,  which 
was  at  first  mainly  upon  business,  Zach's  attention 
was  aroused  by  the  frequent  mention  of  Nassau  and 
of  Falconer's  estates  upon  the  island  of  New  Provi- 
dence. And  in  this  connection,  Zach  overheard  a 
little  scrap  of  their  conversation  which  he  had  griev- 
ous occasion  long  afterwards  to  recall.  Falconer 
was  talking  with  some  enthusiasm  about  his  agent 
in  Nassau,  when  Monsieur  casually  asked  his  namo. 

"Woodbine,"  said  the  planter. 

Monsieur  replied  by  a  low,  long  whistle. 

"Eh!     What  now?" 

"How  long  have  you  employed  him?  " 

"About  three  months." 

"Did  you  ever  happen  to  hear  his  nickname?" 

"How  should  I?" 

"He  is  universally  known  by  the  sobriquet  of 
'Notorious  Woodbine.' ' 

The  two  men  exchanged  looks.  Falconer's  face 
darkened,  and  the  subject  was  dropped. 

Meanwhile  Zach  himself  was  destined  to  become 
better  acquainted  with  the  restless  little  lawyer,  for 
one  day,  during  the  absence  of  Falconer  and  Sandy 
on  an  expedition  to  Lake  Borgne,  he  came  down  to 
the  landing  and  requested  to  be  taken  out.  Zach 
got  under  way  and  took  him  for  a  run  up  the  lake. 
Lacking  older  company,  Monsieur  talked  to  Zach. 
It  seemed  necessary  to  his  comfort  that  he  should 
talk  to  somebody,  and  Zach  was  far  enough  from 


ZACHABY  PII1PS.  141 

taking  exception.  At  first,  busied  with  his  duty 
as  skipper,  he  did  not  give  scrupulous  heed  to  what 
was  said.  Gradually,  however,  he  was  drawn  on  to 
listen,  and  ended  by  being  absorbed  and  well-nigh 
spellbound  by  the  stranger's  eloquence.  Save  only 
the  unapproachable  Burr,  Zach  had  never  heard 
anything  like  him.  His  head  seemed  packed  so 
full  of  knowledge  that  everything  which  fell  from 
his  lips  had  point  and  value. 

Beginning  with  the  yacht,  Monsieur  passed  nat- 
urally to  the  Mississippi,  and  waxed  eloquent,  de- 
scribing to  his  open-mouthed  auditor  the  manner  of 
its  discovery,  and  the  famous  men,  De  Soto,  Hen- 
nepin,  Marquette,  Joliet,  and  La  Salle,  who  were 
concerned  in  it.  He  dwelt  upon  their  zeal,  their 
devotion,  the  incredible  hardships  they  endured, 
their  hairbreadth  escapes,  their  thrilling  adventures, 
until  Zach's  eyes  kindled,  his  blood  quickened,^  and 
his  breath  came  quick  and  short. 

This  was  not  stuff  to  pass  into  one  ear  and  out  the 
other.  It  gained  lodgment  in  heart  and  brain.  It 
rekindled  certain  old  inflammable  material  which 
had  lain  smouldering  since  the  memorable  days  of 
the  expedition.  The  result  was  a  natural  longing 
for  the  stranger  to  reappear.  Happily  for  Zach, 
chance  brought  about  what  he  so  much  wished. 
Falconer  was  housed  several  days  by  a  slight  illness. 
Thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  Monsieur  spent 
much  of  his  time  upon  the  water. 

With  Sandy  to  manage  the  boat,  Zach  had  more 
leisure  to  listen.  Monsieur  did  not  fail  to  talk,  and 
it  was  always  of  something  new :  stories  of  the  Indian 


142  ZACHARY  PHIPS, 

wars,  stories  of  famous  hunters  and  their  exploits, 
stories  of  Captain  Kidd  and  the  bold  buccaneers  of 
the  Spanish  main. 

Upon  the  listener  the  effect  of  this  talk  was  that 
of  being  suddenly  lifted  to  a  mountain's  peak;  it 
resulted  in  an  inspiring  enlargement  of  vision,  in 'an 
opening  up  of  boundless  race-courses  for  the  im- 
agination. An  unsuspected  past  unfolded  in  vast 
perspective  behind,  a  future  teeming  with  untold 
possibilities  loomed  mistily  before. 

Naturally,  Monsieur  could  not  be  blind  to  the 
effect  his  talk  produced.  Flattered  by  such  breath- 
less attention,  he  in  turn  was  led  to  take  more  than  a 
passing  interest  in  his  listener.  He  questioned  Zach 
about  himself,  rather  perfunctorily  it  is  true,  but 
with  the  result  that  he  voluntarily  promised,  upon 
his  next  visit,  to  bring  to  his  young  friend  books  in 
which  he  might  read  these  and  other  marvels  for 
himself. 

Meantime,  something  happened  which  caused  a 
great  sensation  at  Basswood,  and  drove  Monsieur 
and  his  bewitching  stories  out  of  mind.  Sylvia 
came  skipping  down  to  the  boat-house  one  day,  her 
eyes  big  with  excitement,  carrying  her  largest  and 
finest  doll,  which  she  solemnly  placed  in  Zach's 
arms  with  the  startling  admonition,  — 

"There,  take  her!  and  if  I  never,  never  come 
back,  you  must  be  her  mother!  " 

Zach,  holding  in  a  gingerly  way  the  finely-clad 
Parisian  puppet,  looked  dumfounded. 

"We're  going  away, — papa  and  I,  and  Mrs. 
Mason  and  Mimi,  —  away  off  to  Nassau,  and  papa 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  143 

says  I  must  not  take  Elaine  because  she  would  be 
seasick,  and  so  — so  you  must  take  care  of  her." 

Between  surprise  at  the  news  and  consternation 
at  the  grave  responsibility  thus  suddenly  thrust  upon 
him,  Zach  could  not  bring  forth  a  word. 

"You  must  be  very  careful  about  her  food,  and 
take  her  out  riding  every  day,  and  rock  her  to  sleep 
nights ;  and  when  she  is  naughty  you  must  put  her  in 
the  corner,  only,"  went  on  the  excited  child,  with  a 
warning  forefinger,  "you  mustn't  leave  her  there, 
on  account  of  spiders;  and  —  and  you  must  keep 
her  clothes  nice,  and  you  must  be  good  to  her,  and 
take  her  up  when  she  cries,  and  give  her  nice  things 
to  play  with." 

Bewildered  with  these  profuse  instructions,  the 
unhappy  Zach  stood  helplessly  dandling  the  doll  in 
his  arms  and  looking  about  for  a  place  in  which  to 
bestow  it,  while  the  busy  prattler,  all  unconscious  of 
his  distress,  continued :  —  , 

"Mimi  is  bringing  down  her  bed,  an'  you  can 
put  it  next  to  yours,  so  you  can  hear  her  when  she 
cries.  See,  there  she  comes!  Mimi!  Mimi!  Now, 
if  you  are  tired,  I  will  take  her.  Come  to  me, 
Elaine !  See,  you  must  hold  her  up  to  you,  so ;  not 
way  off  like  that." 

Relieved  of  his  embarrassing  charge,  Zach  began 
to  ponder  the  news,  and  asked  huskily,  — 

"Where  is  Nassau?" 

"Why,  it  is  our  other  home,  don't  you  know? 
and  papa  has  another  house  there,  and  lots  of  people, 
and  there  are  beautiful  flowers ;  but  it  will  not  be 
so  good  as  Bass  wood,  for  we  shall  not  have  you  and 
Sandy  and  The  Sylvia." 


144  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

A  call  from  Falconer  broke  up  the  conversation, 
and  the  ecstatic  child  went  hopping  and  skipping 
away,  leaving  Zach  in  a  turmoil  of  emotions. 

Henceforth  all  was  bustle  up  at  the  mansion,  and 
the  stir  of  preparation  was  felt  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree  all  over  the  plantation. 

Although,  as  Zach  heard  from  the  slaves,  the 
planter's  visits  to  Nassau  were  periodical,  and 
usually  limited  to  a  few  weeks,  he  made  his  arrange- 
ments as  carefully  as  for  a  long  absence.  An 
experienced  superintendent  was  left  in  charge  of  the 
plantation,  Gabriel  had  control  of  the  house  and 
offices,  while  all  was  to  be  under  the  general  super- 
vision of  Monsieur,  for  whom  rooms  were  provided 
at  the  mansion  whenever  it  pleased  him  to  spend  a 
few  days  at  the  plantation. 

Hearing  nothing  from  the  planter,  the  crew  im- 
agined themselves  forgotten,  but  on  the  morning  of 
his  departure  Falconer  came  down  to  the  landing 
for  a  final  word. 

"Good-by,  boys,"  he  said;  "look  out  for  the  boat, 
and  keep  things  shipshape !  Monsieur  may  want  a 
sail  when  he  comes  down.  Call  on  the  superinten- 
dent for  anything  you  need.  Good-by ;  perhaps  my 
next  visit  to  Nassau  may  be  made  in  The  Sylvia." 

An  hour  later  a  message  came  to  Zach  from  his 
little  playmate  that  he  was  to  accompany  them  to  the 
vessel  to  see  them  off.  Once  on  board  ship,  that 
agitated  little  person  flew  about  between  her  father, 
Mrs.  Mason,  and  Mimi,  with  questions,  warnings, 
and  injunctions  to  take  care  of  her  bird,  her  dog, 
and  her  traveling  doll, —  the  smallest  of  her  family, 


ZACHARY  PH1PS.  145 

which,  with  much  reluctance,  Falconer  had  been 
obliged  to  admit  of  the  party. 

When  the  last  moment  came,  and  Zach  was  or- 
dered ashore,  Sylvia,  who  in  her  excitement  had  not 
realized  that  they  must  part,  broke  forth  in  tragic 
tone, — 

"Papa,  papa!  make  Zach  come,  too  !  Oh,  papa, 
cannot  Zach  go  with  us?  " 

Falconer,  busy  with  some  last  hurried  directions 
to  Monsieur,  answered  impatiently,  — 

"No,  no,  darling!  Go  away!  Do  not  tease 
papa  now! " 

The  little  lip  trembled,  the  small  bosom  heaved, 
and  a  flood  of  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  as  she 
watched  Zach  reluctantly  pass  over  the  gang-plank. 
Then,  as  he  turned  to  take  a  last  look,  a  little  tear- 
choked  voice  called  out,  — 

"Don't  cry,  Zach!  I'm  coming  back  soon. 
Take  care  of  Elaine,  an-an-and  give  her  a  ki-ki- 
kiss  for  me! " 

That  evening,  when  Sandy  went  stumbling  up  to 
bed,  he  found  his  companion  sitting  at  the  open 
door  of  the  loft  holding  something  in  his  arms. 

"Hullo,  Bub,  wot  ye  got  there?" 

Receiving  no  answer,  the  skipper  approached  and 
recognized  the  waxen  features  and  rigid  figure  of 
Elaine. 

"Wall,  I'm"- 

Finishing  his  exclamation  with  a  soft  whistle,  the 
astonished  skipper  forgot  his  purpose  of  turning  in, 
and  went  down  to  have  another  pipe  on  the  gallery. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT  with  the  house  shut  up,  the  family  gone, 
and  Zach  in  the  dumps,  Sandy  began  to  find  time 
hang  heavy  on  his  hands.  He  lounged  about  the 
landing,  stretched  his  long  legs  in  the  gallery, 
smoked  innumerable  pipes,  yawning  between  whiles, 
until  he  well-nigh  unhinged  his  huge  under  jaw,  and 
saved  himself  from  utter  mental  collapse  by  venting 
cynicisms  upon  an  unheeding  world. 

As  time  wore  on,  the  tedium  grew  more  paralyz- 
ing. Day  after  day  passed,  unmarked  by  an  event, 
and  night  brought  relief  only  because  it  brought 
oblivion.  Finding  things  at  home  so  irksome,  as  a 
natural  result  the  skipper  posted  off  to  town  for  dis- 
traction. In  his  preoccupation  Zach  took  little  heed 
of  his  companion's  movements,  and  was  therefore 
all  the  more  surprised  when,  one  day,  Sandy  came 
home  with  an  air  which,  for  him,  might  be  called 
bustling,  and  began  to  pack  up  his  traps. 

"What  you  doin'?" 

"Histin'  anchor,  Bub." 

"Goin'  away?  " 

"I  reckon." 

"On  a  cruise?" 

"  A  reg'lar  old-timer." 

"When?  — where?"  asked  the  bewildered  Zach. 

"  Wall,  Bub,  for  ivhen  ye  may  say  instanter,  soon 


ZACH ART  PHI  PS.  147 

as  we  git  the  cargo  stowed;  for  where,  that 's  a  horse 
of  another  color,  — from  this  to  St.  Kitts,  an'  from 
there  to  the  Lord  knows  where." 

There  was,  then,  no  doubt;  Sandy  was  really 
going.  Straightway  every  other  subject  for  fancy 
or  reflection  was  lost  sight  of  in  the  overwhelming 
thought.  Recovering  presently  from  his  first  dis- 
may, Zach  feebly  clutched  at  a  straw  of  compromise : 
he  too  would  go. 

"  'T  ain't  no  use,  Bub ;  I  thought  of  it,  but 't  ain't 
no  kind  o'  use;  they  wouldn't  look  at  ye.  This  is 
no  foolin'  business,  it 's  hard  service  afore  the  mast, 
'n'  the  captain  's  a  tough  un,  by  all  accounts.  No, 
Bub,  your  nest  here  is  all  feathered,  'n'  ye  jest  bet- 
ter stick  to  it.  I  shall  turn  up  agin  one  o'  these 
day^,  ef  I  don't  go  to  the  bottom,  'n'  ef  I  do,  't 
won't  be  no  great  loss.  Mebbe  ye  '11  be  big  enough 
to  go  next  time,  but  fer  now  ye  'd  jest  better  hold 
hard  to  yer  anchorage." 

Zach  said  no  more,  but  silently  lent  a  hand,  and 
next  morning,  before  light,  set  off  with  Sandy  to 
the  city,  and  duly  saw  him  aboard  the  Josephine,  a 
three-master  bound  for  the  Antilles  with  a  cargo  of 
lumber. 

Their  leave-taking  was  cut  short  by  the  captain, 
who,  coming  by  chance  upon  his  new  recruit  loiter- 
ing on  the  dock,  roughly  ordered  him  aboard ;  so  at 
the  last  it  was  a  hurried  grip  of  the  hand,  and  a 
"Bear  up,  hearty!  "  and  all  was  over. 

Although  Sandy  was  too  busy  to  take  further 
heed  of  him,  Zach  lingered  aimlessly  on  the  dock 
until  the  vessel  weighed  anchor  and  sailed  slowly 
away  towards  the  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf. 


148  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Going  back  was  like  a  return  to  a  wilderness. 
Every  human  being  in  whom  he  had  any  interest 
was  gone.  Instead  of  making  good  their  loss,  he 
sought,  as  it  seemed,  a  solitude  more  absolute  by 
fleeing  from  all  possible  contact  with  his  kind. 
Every  morning,  fair  or  foul,  he  spread  wide  the 
sails  of  his  boat,  and  flew  out  over  the  lake  on  as 
wild-winged  and  aimless  a  flight  as  that  of  the  sea- 
birds  which,  floating  over  from  the  Gulf,  circled 
and  hovered  above  him  in  his  course. 

There,  at  the  centre  of  his  little  sea,  he  floated 
secure  from  interruption,  and  gave  way  to  his  mus- 
ings. 

Doubtless,  —  so  speedily  does  the  egoist  develop 
from  the  recluse,  —  these  were  not  without  bitter- 
ness. To  sweeten  his  cup  of  home-made  gall  ttere 
haply  came  remembrances  of  that  tear-choked  voice 
calling  good-by  to  him  from  the  Nassau  packet,  and 
of  Sandy's  stanch  and  cheery  farewell. 

To  these  forebodings  upon  his  own  situation  and 
its  outcome  succeeded  presently  thoughts  better 
worth  while,  —  thoughts  upon  a  familiar  old  topic 
loosely  called  life.  Not  altogether  profitless  specu- 
lation, for  in  his  intellectual  flounderings  the  poor 
boy  caught  some  glimmering  side-lights  on  divers 
wholesome  truths  never  before  dreamt  of  in  his 
philosophy.  There  are,  moreover,  good  reasons, 
not  here  to  be  set  forth,  for  believing  that  during 
these  solitary  days  he  underwent,  for  the  second 
time  in  his  short  life,  a  spiritual,  or  more  properly 
a  mental,  awakening  consequent  upon  the  new  and 
vigorous  impulse  which  had  been  given  to  his  specu- 


ZACIIARY  mips.  149 

lations  by  the  talk  of  Monsieur.  Day  by  clay  the 
lonely  little  sailor  pondered  these  stirring  tales,  with 
a  quickened  movement  of  the  blood  and  a  curious 
creeping  of  the  flesh  which  he  could  by  no  means 
account  for.  Who  were  they,  then,  these  old 
pioneers  and  heroes?  Were  they  of  a  different 
race  and  kind  from  the  men  he  had  known?  Had 
any  of  them,  perchance,  come  from  humble  folk  and 
sordid  surroundings?  What,  moreover,  had  they 
left  to  do  in  the  world?  Had  they  not  achieved  all 
the  noble  things?  Had  not  indeed  the  grand  and 
heroic  element  departed  from  life  ?  What  sign  of  it 
could  be  found  in  yonder  dirty,  busy,  chattering, 
chaffering  little  town,  with  its  hodge-podge  of  races, 
religions,  and  aims? 

These  recluse  habits  and  solitary  communings 
served  but  to  make  wider  the  gulf  between  Zach 
and  the  household.  The  slaves  found  the  young 
skipper  distant  and  moody,  and  after*Sandy  went 
away,  they  avoided  the  boat-house  and  landing ;  the 
superintendent  and  Gabriel  were  too  busy  to  think 
of  him,  and  thus  Zach  was  left  to  his  own  devices. 
As  for  Monsieur,  save  for  one  or  two  flying  trips 
upon  business,  it  was  many  months  before  he  found 
leisure  to  make  a  regular  visit  at  Basswood. 

In  all  this  time  Zach  had  heard  no  news  of  the 
travelers.  From  the  talk  among  the  slaves,  when- 
ever he  went  to  the  house,  he  gathered  that  the  fam- 
ily had  already  long  outstayed  the  limit  originally 
fixed  for  their  visit.  Still  other  weeks  and  months 
flew  by,  and  no  preparations  were  made  for  their 
reception.  Windows  and  blinds  remained  shut,  the 


150  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

vines  ran  riot  over  the  trellises,  dust  collected  in 
the  long  galleries,  and  spiders  held  high  carnival  in 
the  countless  "coignes  of  vantage"  afforded  by  the 
capitals  of  the  brick  pillars. 

These  busy  usurpers  were  destined,  as  it  seemed, 
to  acquire  prescriptive  rights,  for  one  morning  came 
Monsieur  on  his  long-deferred  visit,  bringing  news 
that  Falconer  and  Sylvia  had  gone  from  Nassau  to 
England  for  a  stay  of  indefinite  duration. 

This  dismaying  report  made  Zach  feel  like  an 
outcast.  Henceforth,  with  regard  to  the  world  and 
his  own  kind,  he  felt  himself  unattached  and  alien. 
There  seemed  no  longer  anything  in  common  be- 
tween him  and  the  rest  of  the  universe,  save  that 
physical  bond  of  gravitation  which  he  had  heard 
Monsieur  describe.  One  by  one  all  the  moral  ties, 
the  ties  of  service,  obligation,  and  fellowship,  had 
dissolved,  and  left  him  feeling  almost  giddy  in  his 
isolation.  "Biie  future,  too,  which  yesterday  seemed 
so  possible,  so  sharply  defined,  had  in  a  trice  be- 
come a  remote  and  befogged  uncertainty.  He 
realized  now  that  the  long-deferred  day  of  home- 
coming had  in  his  mind  been  unconsciously  invested 
with  the  value  of  an  epoch. 

Notwithstanding  his  former  liking  for  Monsieur, 
this  visit  of  the  restless  attorney  proved  an  embar- 
rassment to  the  little  hermit.  During  his  months  of 
solitude  he  had  so  warped  away  from  his  own  kind 
that  his  manners  had  become  constrained,  and  his 
very  voice  grown  rusty  from  disuse.  Moreover, 
Monsieur  was  not  one  to  be  put  off  with  half -atten- 
tion. He  was  the  same  alert,  exacting  little  man 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  151 

as  before.  He  demanded  of  the  young  skipper 
nimble  service,  constant  companionship,  and  watch- 
ful attendance. 

Although  the  visitor  avowed  that  he  had  come  to 
Basswood  for  rest,  he  seemed  resolved  to  defeat  this 
purpose  by  a  tireless  activity.  Especially  his  tongue 
knew  no  moment  of  repose.  Zach  often  wondered 
whether,  when  alone,  he  talked  to  himself.  The 
irksomeness  of  the  intrusion  once  over,  however, 
when,  as  it  were,  Zach  had  been  shaken  back  into 
a  normal  state  of  fraternity,  he  began  as  before  to 
take  an  interest  in  his  companion's  talk,  and  having 
once  yielded*  to  the  spell,  it  carried  him  swiftly 
on  to  his  former  unbounded  admiration. 

Remembering  his  old  promise,  Monsieur  one  day 
appeared  at  the  landing  with  a  volume  of  Plutarch's 
Lives.  Here  was  a  beginning  of  new  things.  Re- 
turned from  the  sail  and  seated  in  the  doorway  of 
the  boat-house,  with  Elaine  propped  up  against  the 
wall  at  his  side,  his  inseparable  pipe  in  his  lips, 
Zach  spent  the  long  afternoon  over  the  enchanting 
book.  He  talked  of  it  next  day  with  Monsieur.  He 
stared  in  astonishment  when  told  that  they  were  not 
made-up  stories,  those  marvelous  tales,  but  sober 
facts,  —  for  whatever  Monsieur's  real  opinion  with 
regard  to  them,  he  solemnly  assured  Zach  of  their 
high,  venerable,  and  awful  authority. 

Hungrily  the  bewitched  reader  demanded  the 
other  volumes,  and  eagerly  read  them  over  and  over 
again ;  and  when  the  light  failed  and  he  could  read 
no  more,  as  he  sat  alone  in  the  gallery  of  the  little 
boat-house,  where  the  stars  looked  down  upon  him 


152  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

like  buman  eyes,  where  the  mists,  floating  up  from 
the  bosom  of  the  lake,  took  on  the  semblance  of 
stately  and  heroic  forms,  where  the  soughing  of  the 
wind  among  the  overhanging  trees,  and  the  cry  of 
the  bittern  in  the  distant  swamps,  all  helped  to  fill 
the  night  with  mystery  and  loneliness,  then  all  he 
had  read  came  back  to  him,  then  his  kindled  fancy 
peopled  the  vast  and  silent  wastes  about  him  with 
illustrious  shapes.  He  scoured,  with  mighty  hosts, 
the  Syrian  plains;  he  ploughed,  with  conquering 
triremes,  the  ^Egean  wave ;  he  thundered  philippics 
to  applauding  senates,  and  reenacted  all  the  stirring 
and  glorious  scenes  of  the  Plutarchian  world. 

Amazed  at  the  zest  of  this  newly-awakened  intel- 
lect, Monsieur  took  a  natural  pleasure  in  minister- 
ing to  it.  He  brought  forth  book  after  book  from 
the  stores  of  Falconer's  library,  which  proved  to  be 
well  stocked  with  the  heterogeneous  old-time  mate- 
rial which  our  grandfathers,  God  help  them!  bat- 
tened upon.  For  there  was  not  only  Rollins,  Chap- 
man's Homer,  Dryden's  Virgil,  and  the  Adventures 
of  Telemachus,  but  Addison,  Pope,  Swift,  Bunyan, 
and  Defoe.  Of  all  these,  remembering  the  com- 
mander's advice,  Zach  applied  himself  chiefly  to 
those  which  presumably  dealt  with  facts. 

The  watchful  attorney,  fearing  lest  indiscrimi- 
nate credulity  should  become  a  fixed  mental  habit 
with  his  pupil,  presently  interfered.  He  flung  cold 
water,  he  vented  some  wholesome  jeers,  he  flouted 
the  demigods  of  antiquity,  he  belittled  their  doughty 
doings. 

Zach  reddened  and  bit  his  lip,  but  presently,  firing 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  153 

up,  made  a  stout  defense  of  his  worthies,  lamenting 
that  their  strain  had  died  out  of  a  degenerate  world, 
along  with  the  breed  of  saints  and  martyrs. 

Monsieur  laughed  aloud.  "  Pooh,  boy !  We  have 
as  .many  now  as  ever.  More,  indeed;  they  swarm, 
that  brood.  They  're  a  troublesome  lot,  too,  these 
heroes  of  yours;  why,  yonder  Yankees  up  North, 
who  within  my  remembrance  drove  Johnny  Bull 
snarling  and  skulking  back  to  his  island,  they  were 
heroes  of  a  sort.  Nearer  at  hand  in  point  of  time, 
there  was  our  clever  little  schemer,  Aaron  Burr." 

"The  commander,  you  mean?" 

"  I  mean  the  traitor,  —  he  who  would  have  been  a 
hero,  —  one  of  the  good  old-fashioned  sort,  too,  —  if 
he  had  succeeded." 

Whether  dumfounded  at  the  thought  that  he 
himself  had  been  associated  with  a  real  hero,  or 
restrained  by  an  impulse  of  caution,  Zach  made  no 
comment. 

"Then,"  continued  Monsieur,  "to  come  down  to 
the  very  present  moment,  there  is  Buonaparte." 

"What  has  he  done?"  demanded  Zach.  The 
astonished  attorney  stared  at  such  ignorance. 

"  Done  ?  What  Alexander  and  Ca3sar  failed  to 
do, —  conquered  the  world.  A  different  world  from 
theirs,  mon  Dieuf  Not  a  world  that  fights  with 
sticks  and  stones,  and  the  like,  but  a  world  united, 
disciplined,  brought  up  amid  the  fumes  of  gunpow- 
der. Ay,  ay,  he  outstrips  them  all;  'tis  only  the 
long-ago  makes  those  others  seem  so  mighty,  see 
you?" 

"And  is  he  living  now?" 


154  ZACHARY  PH1PS. 

"That  he  is,  and  the  greatest  villain  that  draws 
breath,"  answered  Monsieur  calmly. 

"What  does  he  do  so  bad?  " 

"He  dyes  the  rivers  with  blood,  and  manures  all 
Europe  with  the  corpses  of  its  best  men.  He  robs, 
burns,  pillages,  and  assassinates." 

"Why  does  he  do  this?"  demanded  Zach  inno- 
cently. 

"For  a  noble  object."  Monsieur  laughed  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  "To  glut  his  vanity,  to 
bring  all  the  world  to  bow  down  before  him,  the 
great  little  pigmy." 

"But,"  was  the  wondering  comment,  "he  is  a 
Frenchman,  and  you  are  a  Frenchman,  and  " 

"No,  no;  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  I  was 
born  —  what  matters  where?  and  he, —  he  is  a  vile 
little  Corsican." 

"How  did  he  begin  to  do  all  this?"  asked  Zach, 
after  some  minutes'  silence. 

"  *  Begin  '  ?  At  the  beginning.  He  made  up  his 
mind  when  a  babe  what  he  wanted  in  life,  and  then 
marched  straight  to  it,  knocking  everybody  out  of 
his  path." 

"But  what  was  the  first  thing? "  persisted  the 
absorbed  listener. 

"A  simple  thing  enough:  to  conquer  the  world, 
mind  you,  one  first  becomes  a  soldier.  'T  was  what 
the  little  Corsican  yonder  did.  He  wasted  no  time 
on  other  matters,  he  thought  of  nothing  else,  he 
cared  for  nothing  else,  and  so,  see  you  ?  in  time  he 
arrived." 

Conscious  in  part  of  the  interest  he  had  awakened 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  155 

in  his  youthful  listener,  and  noting  the  wistful  look 
in  the  boy's  eyes  at  parting,  the  attorney  carelessly 
let  fall  a  suggestion  that  he  would  on  a  pinch  give 
him  a  helping  hand  in  his  studies. 

If  Monsieur  made  this  offer  perfunctorily  as  a 
farewell  compliment,  he  must  have  been  taken  aback 
by  the  eagerness  with  which  it  was  accepted,  and 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  the  recipient  availed  him- 
self of  the  offered  privilege.  Thereafter,  twice  a 
week,  storm  or  shine,  Zach  turned  up  at  the  lawyer's 
little  brick  domicile  in  town,  and  with  such  an  in- 
tent, hungry  look  that  Monsieur  had  a  disagreeable 
impression  of  a  vampire  come  to  fasten  upon  him. 
It  was  more  than  the  good  man  had  bargained  for, 
and  there  is  not  a  doubt  that  he  was  at  first  greatly 
bored.  Indeed,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  tried  by 
long  and  severe  lessons  to  discourage  this  invasion 
of  his  leisure.  In  vain ;  this  shock-headed  boat-boy, 
with  his  extraordinary  zest,  quailed  not  before  any 
task.  Monsieur  rubbed  his  glasses.  Was  this  a 
genius  he  had  lighted  upon?  The  little  lawyer  was 
too  acute  to  be  long  deceived,  but  he  discovered 
presently,  to  his  astonishment,  how  far  concentration 
and  steadiness  of  purpose  avail  to  rival  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  rarest  intelligence. 

Not  satisfied  with  his  regular  studies,  Zach  was  a 
cormorant  of  books.  Monsieur  quickly  settled  that 
problem  by  turning  him  loose  in  the  library  at 
Basswood.  Finding  all  efforts  vain  to  guide  him, 
he  ended  by  bidding  him  browse  at  will.  From  the 
first  his  bent  was  most  marked,  and  his  range  sin- 
gularly contracted,  —  history,  politics,  and  govern- 


156  ZACHABT  PHIPS. 

ment,  and  the  tale  was  told.  He  delighted  in  the 
thrust  and  parry  and  the  stilted  courtesy  of  diplo- 
matic correspondence,  in  the  intrigues  and  manoeu- 
vres of  statecraft;  and  Monsieur  unwittingly  opened 
a  whole  treasure-house  by  the  accidental  discussion 
of  a  question  of  international  law.  Here  was  a  new 
pasture,  belonging  to  his  own  domain.  Monsieur 
thought  to  terrify  him  by  bringing  forth  dusty,  pon- 
derous volumes  of  the  classic  writers,  but  he  thereby 
only  added  fuel  to  the  flames,  for  his  indefatigable 
pupil  never  rested  until  he  had  brought  his  Latin  to 
the  point  where  he  could  read  Grotius,  Vattel,  and 
the  other  old  pundits,  in  the  original. 

All  this,  be  it  said,  was  the  work  of  several  years, 
—  of  busy,  quick -flying,  fruitful  years.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  this  constant  and  continued  intellec- 
tual training  effected  little  or  no  change  in  his 
speech  and  bearing.  His  grammar  was  as  uncer- 
tain and  his  manners  were  as  unformed  as  when  he 
arrived  at  Basswood. 

Naturally,  while  thus  absorbed,  his  regrets  for 
the  old  life  became  less  poignant.  As  a  proof,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  not  unfaithful  to  its  memories,  it 
having  one  day  occurred  to  him  that  the  two  years 
assigned  by  Sandy  as  the  duration  of  his  cruise  had 
long  since  expired,  he  flung  down  his  books  and 
rushed  out  of  doors,  staring  like  one  just  awaked 
from  sleep. 

Thereupon,  thinking  of  the  matter,  he  became 
greatly  troubled ;  he  neglected  his  studies,  and  spent 
his  time  haunting  the  wharves,  watching  incoming 
vessels,  and  making  incessant  inquiries  of  the  sailors. 


ZACHARY  PI1IPS.  157 

Thus  busied,  he  was  one  day  making  his  way  along 
the  crowded  dock  where  a  New  York  packet  was 
getting  ready  to  sail,  when  he  heard  near  at  hand  a 
voice  which  made  his  heart  leap  and  sent  the  blood 
coursing  through  his  veins. 

Turning,  he  saw  near  by  a  family  group,  of  which 
the  central  figure,  a  remarkable-looking  woman,  was 
speaking.  Instantly  he  recognized  her,  and  re- 
strained an  impulse  to  rush  forward.  It  was  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett. 

After  helping  her  husband  pick  out  their  luggage 
from  the  mass  of  freight  on  the  dock,-  she  came  for- 
ward, accompanied  by  her  two  sons,  to  go  aboard 
the  vessel. 

Gazing  at  her  eagerly  as  she  approached,  Zach, 
with  the  detective  keenness  of  youth,  noted  that  her 
face  was  marked  by  lines  of  trouble,  that  the  rich 
color  had  somewhat  faded  from  her  cheeks,  and  that 
her  thick  brown  hair  was  already  tinged  with  gray. 

Busied  with  the  preparations  for  her  forthcoming 
voyage,  she  passed  Zach  without  noticing  him. 

Yielding  to  an  irresistible  impulse,  he  ran  after 
her.  She  turned,  saw  the  gawky,  half-grown  boy, 
regarded  him  with  an  indifferent  stare,  and  was 
about  to  go  on  when,  unable  to  contain  himself, 
Zach  stammered,  — 

"I  —  you  —  Mrs.  —  your  name  is  Blennerhas- 
sett." 

"Yes,"  she  answered  indifferently. 

"And  I  am  Zach." 

She  looked  puzzled. 

"The  mate  of  the  Bouncing  Bet." 


158  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"Mercy  upon  us!  Do  you  really  tell  me  so? 
You  dear  child,  —  and  grown  to  this ;  yes,  yes,  to 
be  sure,  I  see  now.  You  're  not  much  bigger  than 
Harman,  after  all.  So  you  are  alive  and  well? 
God  be  thanked  for  it,  too !  for  I  have  often  and 
often  thought  of  you,  and  reproached  myself  that  I 
left  you  to  your  fate.  What,  tell  me,  are  you  doing 
here?"  with  a  critical  glance  at  his  rough  clothes. 
"And  the  sailor  man, — I  forget  his  name, — an 
honest  soul,  he  was." 

"Sandy?" 

"Yes,  to  be  sure." 

" He  has  gone  on  a  cruise,  and  I  —  I'm  the 
skipper  for  Mr.  Falconer  yonder  on  Lake  Pontchar- 
train." 

"Ah,  indeed!" 

"And  I  study  besides,  with  Monsieur  Lescomt." 

"Study,  do  you  say?  Right,  my  boy!  You 
would  make  yourself  something  besides  a  sailor, 
then?" 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  answered  Zach,  blushing. 

"Why,  after  all,  should  you?"  she  added,  com- 
fortingly. "  'T  is  an  honorable  calling,  and  one 
may  rise  in  it  by  merit  as  well  as  another.  For  the 
matter  of  that,  we  are  trying  this  very  moment  to 
get  our  own  Harman  into  the  navy,  which  his  father 
thinks  the  finest  profession  in  the  world,  and  well 
he  may,  too !  Ah,  but  it  takes  great  influence,  and 
I  am  doubtful  if  we  succeed." 

"You  are  —  you  have  been  living  here  ever  since  ?  " 
faltered  Zach,  at  a  loss  what  to  say. 

"Never  a  bit,  child;  we  are  passing  through,  'tis 


ZACITARY  PHIPS.  159 

all.  We  come  from  Mississippi,  where  we  have  just 
sold  our  plantation.  Ah,  we  put  all  the  little  scrap 
of  a  fortune  we  had  left  into  that  venture,"  contin- 
ued the  impulsive  woman,  in  an  outpouring  of  con- 
fidence, as  if  to  a  person  of  her  own  age.  "Yes,  all 
we  had  in  the  world,  I  say,  and  little  enough  it  was, 
after  —  that  —  that  experience.  But  did  you  hear 
of  that  wonderful  man?" 

"The  commander?  "  gasped  Zach. 

"Yes,  and  how  he  came  forth  from  that  trial  where 
all  the  greatest  lawyers  and  judges  were  pitted  against 
him,  to  say  nothing  of  the  government,  —  how  he 
came  forth,  I  say  —  how  he  put  them  all  to  shame, 
and  came  forth  free  and  unsullied." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"In  New  York,  he  is.  I  hope  we  may  soon  join 
him.  Ah,  trouble  has  pursued  him.  lie  lost  all 
his  estate,  like  the  rest  of  us.  Then,"  with  an  ex- 
pressive look,  "that  other  affair.  He  will  never  get 
over  that.  What  matter?"  she  continued,  with  a 
touch  of  old-time  fervor;  "misfortune  has  no  power 
to  blight  such  a  spirit.  His  star  will  yet  rise  and 
shine  I  Mark  my  words,  dear  boy,  and  remember 
them  well !  His  day  is  coming,  and  it  will  be  a  day 
of  triumph!  Watch,  wait,  and  be  ready,  if  you 
would  have  a  part  in  it!  Remember,"  she  con- 
cluded, sinking  her  voice  impressively,  "a  life  lost 
in  such  a  cause  is  immortal  glory  gained! " 

Interrupted  by  a  querulous  call  from  her  husband, 
the  inveterate  enthusiast,  seizing  Zach  by  both 
hands,  shook  them  with  vigor  as  she  whispered  a 
hurried  farewell,  and  hastened  away  to  join  her 
family. 


160  ZACHAR Y  PHIPS. 

Zach  went  back  to  Basswood  very  much  stirred 
up  by  this  interview  with  his  old  friend.  Forgotten 
hopes,  dreams,  and  ambitions  stalked  forth  like 
ghosts  from  their  grass-grown  graves,  and  made  him 
feel  a  hundred  years  old.  One  sentence,  moreover, 
dropped  by  Mrs.  Blennerhassett,  especially  haunted 
him.  "The  finest  profession  of  the  world,"  she  had 
said,  in  speaking  of  the  navy.  The  words  rang  in 
his  ears.  He  repeated  them  all  the  way  home.  He 
thought  of  them  for  days  and  days  afterwards. 

On  reaching  the  plantation,  he  made  a  discovery 
which  for  a  time  gave  his  thoughts  another  turn. 
Mounting  to  the  loft  with  wearied  steps,  he  lighted 
his  candle,  and  sat  down  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  of 
relief  on  his  pallet  bed. 

Raising  his  eyes,  they  fell  upon  a  familiar  object. 
Before  him,  perched  in  an  angle  of  the  rafters,  sat 
Elaine. 

What  was  the  matter  with  that  Parisian  young 
woman  ?  She  wore  an  unnatural  and  ghastly  aspect ! 

Starting  up,  he  seized  the  candle  and  made  an 
examination.  The  rats  had  eaten  away  her  nose, 
left  cheek,  and  ear ! 

Zach  uttered  a  lusty  oath.  He  caught  up  the  doll 
and  regarded  it  with  an  expression  of  mingled  dis- 
may and  remorse.  He  walked  the  floor  with  the 
mutilated  creature  in  his  arms.  He  went  below  and 
paced  up  and  down  the  dark  gallery ;  then,  as  if  it 
now  were  of  any  avail,  he  locked  up  the  disfigured 
pet  in  the  tool-box,  and  continued  his  march  up  and 
down. 

Nor  was  it  wasted,  this  midnight  promenade,  as 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  161 

was  shown  by  next  day's  action.  Directly  after 
breakfast,  he  went  to  the  superintendent,  borrowed 
a  pen  and  some  ink,  and  spent  the  day  in  writing  a 
letter.  He  began:  "My  dear  Sylvia,"  and  scratched 
it  out.  He  made  many  other  beginnings,  which  he 
likewise  scratched  out.  The  subjoined  draft,  which 
he  finally  sent,  will  afford  an  indication  of  his  feel- 
ings at  the  moment. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  FALCONER,  —  I  must  inform  you 
of  a  great  misfortune.  It  is  my  fault,  and  I  have  n't 
any  excuse.  You  left  Elaine  under  my  charge,  and 
I  had  oughter  took  good  care  of  her.  But  I  didn't, 
and  the  consequence  is  she  is  spoilt.  Her  nose  is 
eat  off  by  rats.  The  rats  likewise  eat  off  her  ear 
and  a  part  of  her  face.  She  looks  bad,  and  I  don't 
think  she  can  ever  be  mended.  I  oughter  have 
locked  her  up  in  the  tool-box,  but  I  did  n't.  I  left 
her  settin'  on  a  beam,  and  they  got  her.  I  am 
sorry. 

Your  obed't  serv't,  ZACH  PHIPS. 

Although  the  writer  never  received  any  answer  to 
this  letter,  it  had  one  result  which  he  little  foresaw. 
It  recalled  to  the  absent  owner  the  fact  that  he  had 
a  useless  toy  on  his  hands,  which  in  homely  parlance 
was  eating  its  own  head  off.  Accordingly,  after 
some  months,  Monsieur  received  from  England  an 
order  to  sell  the  yacht  and  discharge  her  crew. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

HAD  Monsieur  at  all  foreseen  the  effect  of  the 
blunt  announcement  of  his  news  from  England, 
doubtless  he  would  have  softened  the  blow.  As  it 
was,  directly  he  noted  the  look  of  stupor  in  Zach's 
face,  —  that  look  which  comes  over  a  man  or  a  brute 
stunned  by  a  sudden  shock,  —  the  acute  and  kind- 
hearted  little  man  was  prompt  with  his  palliatives. 

On  the  whole,  he  did  the  best  thing  possible 
under  the  circumstances,  in  boldly  taking  the  bull 
by  the  horns  and  telling  Zach  bluntly  that  this 
sudden  dismissal  was  really  a  blessing  in  disguise. 
Zach  stared,  and  swallowed  a  lump  in  his  throat. 

"You  are  getting  a  big  boy,"  went  on  Monsieur, 
frankly.  "  'T  is  time  you  were  seeing  something  of 
the  world,  and  looking  out  for  more  profitable  em- 
ployment than  idling  about  in  a  sailboat." 

Listening  to  these  plain  words,  Zach  felt  some- 
thing respond  within  him  which  proved  that  the 
attorney  had  struck  the  right  chord.  So  soon  as  the 
whirring  in  his  head  was  stilled,  and  the  ground 
would  stay  down  in  its  place,  his  own  good  sense 
came  to  the  fore  and  confirmed  every  word  that  Mon- 
sieur had  said.  Whereupon  it  only  needed  some 
kind  assurances  of  aid  and  sympathy  to  send  him 
home  feeling  quite  resigned. 

Yet,  wresting  a  human  being  so  suddenly  from 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  163 

his  surroundings,  like  any  other  act  of  violence,  has 
disturbing  effects.  Accordingly,  Zach,  however  rec- 
onciled in  theory,  was  in  fact  greatly  moved.  He 
began  to  realize  how  much  he  had  leaned  upon 
Sandy,  and  how  confidently  he  had  been  counting 
upon  renewing  their  old  relations  upon  his  return. 

Thereupon  came  to  mind  again  the  subject  of  the 
skipper's  prolonged  absence,  and  he  began  to  have 
misgivings  that  some  ill  had  befallen  his  faithful 
old  comrade.  Busied  with  his  preparations  for  de- 
parture, he  was  haunted  by  the  thought  of  Sandy's 
coming  back  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  and  finding 
their  old  nest  deserted.  Accordingly,  on  going 
away,  he  wrote  him  a  letter,  and  nailed  it  firmly  on 
the  outside  of  the  boat-house  door. 

Another  episode,  not  to  be  neglected,  marked  his 
leave-taking.  At  the  last  moment  he  went  to  the 
tool-box  and  took  out  the  mutilated  doll.  Looking 
long  and  earnestly  at  the  grotesque  puppet,  he  laid 
it  tenderly  back  in  the  dark  box,  and,  stifling  a  sob, 
he  ran  out  of  the  house  and  along  the  road  leading 
to  town,  with  the  look  of  a  hunted  animal. 

In  his  desolation  he  thought  again  of  Mrs.  Blen- 
nerhassett,  and  her  words  came  back  with  new  force 
in  this  moment  of  doubt  and  need.  "The  finest 
profession;"  he  repeated  the  phrase  fifty  times  on 
his  way  to  New  Orleans,  now  with  a  look  of  hope, 
and  again  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  as  he  reflected  on 
the  doubts  and  difficulties  in  the  way. 

The  navy !  What  saint  or  martyr  ever  pictured 
heaven  half  so  bright,  or  thought  of  it  with  half  so 
keen  a  longing,  as  in  those  hours  of  doubt  and  per- 
plexity Zach  pictured  the  naval  service. 


164  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

Opening  his  mind  on  the  subject  to  Monsieur, 
for  want  of  any  other  confidant,  the  skeptical  little 
attorney  dryly  advised  him  to  try  a  cruise  on  a 
merchantman  by  way  of  testing  his  enthusiasm. 

The  advice  was  welcomed,  the  rather  that  in  this 
direction  no  aid  or  influence  was  needed.  To  put 
his  purpose  speedily  into  operation,  then,  he  betook 
himself  to  the  docks,  where,  without  hesitation,  he 
offered  his  services  to  the  captain  of  an  American 
bark  loading  for  the  Mediterranean.  He  was  ac- 
cepted without  demur,  and  presently  enrolled  among 
the  crew  of  the  Indian  Queen. 

Accordingly,  on  a  certain  fair  morning  not  long 
afterwards,  he  sailed  out  of  the  port  of  New  Orleans, 
taking  with  him  of  his  old  life,  besides  certain  in- 
effaceable memories  and  impressions,  a  small  store 
of  precious  books  which  he  had  bought  with  his  sav- 
ings. These,  strictly  confined  as  to  subject-matter 
to  the  lines  already  indicated,  he  henceforth  carried 
wherever  he  went,  and  in  the  study  of  them  not 
only  found  an  availing  solace  for  uncongenial  work 
and  companionship,  but  unconsciously  fitted  himself 
for  certain  larger  fields  of  usefulness  the  future  had 
in  store  for  him.  Protracted  by  profitable  ventures 
from  one  foreign  port  to  another,  the  voyage  was 
much  longer  than  had  been  expected.  More  than 
two  years  slipped  by  before  the  Indian  Queen  set 
her  sails  for  home.  This  long  interval  proved  a 
breathing-spell  in  Zach's  life,  a  tune  for  vegetation, 
a  wholesome  interlude,  in  which,  under  simple  con- 
ditions, his  physical  forces  ripened  and  toughened 
for  coming  strains.  Otherwise,  save  for  one  inci- 
dent, it  was  uneventful. 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  165 

Nearing  the  American  coast,  on  the  return  trip,  a 
sail  was  seen  in  the  offing,  which  upon  examination 
proved  to  be  a  British  cruiser.  Although,  when 
sighted,  holding  an  adverse  course,  on  perceiving 
the  American  she  came  about  and  bore  down,  as  if 
for  a  conference.  Knowing  the  two  nations  to  be 
at  peace,  Zach  was  astonished  at  the  behavior  of  his 
captain,  who,  far  from  evincing  any  disposition  for 
a  closer  acquaintance  with  the  stranger,  made  no 
secret  of  his  purpose  to  show  her  a  clean  pair  of 
heels.  The  Britisher,  however,  was  not  to  be  so 
easily  left  in  the  lurch.  Shaking  out  her  spare  can- 
vas, she  came  forging  down  before  the  wind,  over- 
hauling the  fugitive  league  by  league.  All  other 
signals  being  disregarded,  she  presently  sent  a 
sharper  summons  in  the  shape  of  a  shot  from  her 
long  gun  across  the  Yankee's  bow. 

Seeing  escape  useless,,  the  Indian  Queen  hove  to, 
and  thereupon  was  directly  visited  by  a  saucy  lieu- 
tenant at  the  head  of  a  squad  of  marines,  who, 
despite  the  indignant  protest  of  the  Yankee  captain, 
impressed  and  carried  away  a  half-dozen  of  the 
ablest  of  his  crew,  on  the  pretext  that  they  were 
British  subjects. 

Zach,  who  witnessed  this  high-handed  proceed- 
ing, suddenly  developed  into  a  very  ardent  patriot. 
Hitherto,  he  had  thought  of  his  country  only  as  a 
place  rather  barren  in  heroes  and  opportunities. 
Now,  somewhat  to  his  amazement,  his  blood  boiled 
at  the  indignity  which  had  been  offered  her  before 
his  very  eyes. 

Talking  over  the  matter  afterwards  with  persons 


166  ZACUABY  PHIPS. 

on  shore,  he  was  almost  stupefied  to  learn  that  the 
experience  of  the  Indian  Queen,  so  far  from  being 
unusual,  was  an  every  -  day  occurrence ;  that  the 
President  and  his  advisers  at  Washington  knew  all 
about  it  and  had  repeatedly  taken  it  into  consider- 
ation ;  that  they  had  even  gone  to  the  length  of  com- 
plaining to  the  British  minister  and  protesting  that 
it  was  a  very  improper  practice.  Notwithstanding 
which,  the  naughty  and  intractable  British  navy 
went  on  helping  themselves,  according  to  their 
need,  to  any  promising  and  able  -  bodied  mariner 
they  could  find  upon  an  American  merchant  vessel. 

So  much  did  Zach  take  to  heart  this  international 
question  that  he  scarcely  heeded  the  arrival  of  the 
Indian  Queen  in  port,  or  the  fact  that,  after  so  long 
a  time,  he  was  back  again  in  New  Orleans. 

On  landing,  his  first  care  was  to  present  himself 
before  Monsieur,  and  he  was  very  much  disconcerted 
that  his  old  friend  did  not  recognize  him.  For  the 
first  time  he  realized  what  a  metamorphosis  two  years 
had  wrought  in  him  as  an  animal :  that  he  had  grown 
a  head  taller,  that  his  figure  had  spread,  that  he  had 
lost  his  rounded  outline  and  become  gaunt  and  mus- 
cular, and  that,  in  fine,  touched  by  the  wizard  wand 
of  development,  he  had  changed  from  a  boy  to  a  man. 

Monsieur  was  kind ;  he  expressed  pleasure  in  see- 
ing his  old  pupil,  he  asked  many  questions,  he  in- 
vited Zach  to  supper,  but  somehow  it  was  not  quite 
like  the  old  times.  Aside  from  the  question  of 
growth  and  looks,  a  change  had  taken  place.  Was 
it  in  teacher,  or  pupil?  Intangible  and  subtle  as  it 
was,  Zach  soon  solved  the  problem :  in  the  bright, 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  167 

penetrating  eyes  of  his  old  friend  he  detected,  what 
he  had  never  before  noted,  a  critical  look,  and  real- 
ized that  he  was  being  objectively  weighed  and 
measured. 

Puzzling  further  over  this  discovery,  it  presently 
all  became  clear.  There  had  indeed  been  a  change, 
and  it  was  in  himself.  His  condition  in  life,  before 
uncertain,  had  now  been  determined;  he  was  now 
a  professional  sailor,  and  the  absurdity  of  an  inti- 
macy between  a  cultivated,  polished  man  like  Mon- 
sieur and  a  rude  seaman  before  the  mast  became 
apparent  upon  a  mere  statement  of  the  case. 

Directly  the  truth  had  fully  dawned  upon  him, 
Zach  rose  to  go.  Declining  somewhat  stiffly  the 
little  attorney's  offer  of  hospitality,  he  took  his  leave 
and  made  his  way  out  to  Basswood,  where,  having 
already  learned  from  Monsieur  that  the  Falconers 
were  still  in  England,  his  first  inquiry  was  for 
Sandy.  It  was  the  old  cook,  now  rheumatic  and 
superserviceable,  with  whom  he  gossiped.  She  said 
Sandy  had  been  there,  had  found  the  letter,  and  had 
written  an  answer. 

On  hearing  this,  Zach  without  loss  of  time  betook 
himself  to  the  boat-house  door,  and  found  the  letter. 
Although  somewhat  weather-worn  outside,  it  was 
legible  enough  within,  and  as  characteristic  withal 
as  an  April  day. 

March,  1812. 

DEAR  BUB.  Your  letter  gin  me  a  setback,  for 
I  ben  a-hankerin  to  see  ye  all  the  way  home,  an  it 
took  the  gizzard  clean  out  of  me  to  find  the  coop 
empty.  I  hadnt  oughter  left  ye  behind,  I  know, 


168  ZACJIABY  PIIIPS. 

an  it  serves  me  right;  but  the  fact  is  I  couldnt  stan 
it  no  longer.  Well,  no  matter  for  that ;  its  gon  and 
past  and  cant  be  helped ;  all  we  can  do  now  is  to  git 
our  bearings  and  keep  a  strait  corse  the  rest  of  the 
way.  The  niggers  say  youve  gon  off  fore  the  mast. 
Well,  you  done  a  good  thing,  I  reckon.  You'll 
come  back  with  your  eyes  pooty  wide  open  at  any 
rate.  When  be  you  coming  back  ?  You  say  sunthing 
bout  being  gon  a  year  or  two,  but  seein  as  ther  aint 
no  year  of  our  Lord  on  your  letter,  that  dont  help 
much.  If  I  go  off  now,  like  as  not  you'll  be 
comin  back  while  Im  gon  an  so  it'll  go.  Well, 
now,  that  bein  the  case,  I  guess  the  best  way'll  be 
for  me  to  loaf  round  the  coste  here  till  you  turn  up. 
Im  goin  now  on  a  little  run  up  to  the  Chesapeek  as 
secon  mait  on  a  coster,  an  like  as  not  I  may  round 
up  here  agin  bout  the  time  youre  makin  port.  So 
hold  hard,  an  keep  your  signals  fly  in. 

Your  frend  SANDY. 

As  the  letter  was  several  months  old,  the  writer 
had  evidently  not  returned,  for  nothing  had  been 
heard  of  him  at  Basswood.  Thereupon  Zach  was 
seized  with  a  desire,  which  quickly  ripened  into  a  de- 
termination, to  follow  him.  Where,  then,  and  what 
was  the  Chesapeake?  Inquiry  among  the  sailors 
soon  enlightened  him,  nor  was  he  long  in  finding  an 
opportunity  to  ship  as  one  of  the  crew  of  a  northern - 
bound  schooner,  which  was  to  touch  at  St.  Mary's. 

Zach  realized  with  new  wonder  the  extent  and 
charms  of  his  native  country  as  he  sailed  into  the 
beautiful  Maryland  bay.  Landing,  a  fresh  impulse 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  169 

was  given  to  these  patriotic  impulses  by  the  talk  he 
heard  about  him.  There  was  but  one  topic,  —  the 
continued  outrages  committed  by  the  British  cruis- 
ers, and  the  contemptuous  indifference  with  which 
all  claims  for  redress  were  treated  by  Lord  Liverpool 
and  his  cabinet.  Already  there  were  threatening 
rumors  of  reprisal,  and,  despite  the  apparent  folly 
of  a  nation  with  two  or  three  puny  ships  presuming 
to  pit  itself  against  the  greatest  naval  power  in 
the  world,  there  were  not  wanting  bold  spirits  who 
raised  a  cry  of  war. 

How  that  war-cry  was  caught  up  by  the  respecta- 
ble gentlemen  at  Washington  who  presided  over  the 
affairs  of  the  nation !  Long  had  they  been  sitting 
in  suspense,  waiting  for  the  popular  pool  to  stir. 
Those  days  were  troublous  times  for  them.  Buf- 
feted by  France,  kicked  and  cuffed  by  England, 
and  haunted  by  some  very  awesome  spectres  hover- 
ing about  their  own  political  future,  they  had  long 
recognized  the  need  for  action.  The  ripe  moment 
had  at  length  come.  What  better  than  a  foreign 
war?  With  whom?  What  matter?  It  was  but 
the  tossing  of  a  penny.  Heads,  Johnny  Crapaud; 
tails,  Johnny  Bull.  Tails  it  is ! 

The  momentous  news,  echoing  in  a  sibilant  whis- 
per down  the  Potomac,  reached  Zach  at  St.  Mary's, 
where  his  schooner  was  reloading.  The  words  of 
Mrs.  Blennerhassett  flamed  up  again  in  his  mind. 
They  had  long  served  as  his  shibboleth ;  here  at  last 
was  the  touchstone,  opportunity,  to  test  their  worth. 
Thenceforth  every  power  of  mind  and  heart  were 
centred  upon  one  object. 


170  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

Heaven,  as  it  seemed,  heard  and  answered  his 
unformulated  prayer.  The  very  next  morning  after 
hearing  the  thrilling  report  from  Washington,  word 
came  by  accident  to  Zach  that  a  government  frigate 
was  at  that  very  moment  lying  at  Annapolis,  a  few 
miles  above,  taking  in  stores  and  shipping  a  new 
crew. 

Telling  nobody  of  his  purpose,  he  slipped  away, 
and  after  walking  a  day  and  a  night  over  a  rough 
road,  he  arrived  at  dawn  of  the  second  day  in  the 
sleepy  seaport  of  Maryland. 

Without  waiting  to  rest  or  refresh  himself,  he 
made  his  way  to  the  docks,  and  there,  anchored  in 
the  bay  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  beheld  the  object 
of  his  search.  His  heart  beat  fast  as  he  gazed  upon 
her  clean-cut  outline,  as  he  noted  her  tapering  spars, 
her  trim  rigging,  and  her  port-holes  bristling  with 
guns. 

Reluctantly,  he  tore  himself  away  from  the  en- 
grossing spectacle,  to  get  his  breakfast.  At  the  old 
City  Tavern,  where  he  went  to  eat,  a  party  at  a 
table  near  him  drew  his  attention.  Seated  at  the 
head  of  the  board  was  a  stout,  florid  man  in  a  uni- 
form, whom  all  seemed  to  treat  with  great  respect. 
Inquiring  of  the  waiter,  Zach  learned  with  a  thrill 
that  it  was  the  captain  of  the  frigate  himself. 

After  breakfast  he  watched  his  chance,  and  with 
heart  in  mouth  accosted  the  great  man  upon  whom 
at  the  moment  he  looked  as  the  arbiter  of  his  des- 
tiny. 

The  officer  looked  him  over  with  a  glance  at  once 
shrewd  and  good-natured. 


ZACHART  PHIPS.  171 

"Join  the  navy,  eh?  —  what  do  you  want  to  be, 
pilot  or  cook?" 

"I  want  to  be  a  midshipman,"  faltered  Zach, 
amazed  at  his  own  boldness. 

"Humph!  how  old  are  you ?" 

"Sixteen,  sir." 

"You  seem  a  trim,  likely  boy.  Can  you  read 
and  write?  " 

"They  say  I  can,  first-rate." 

"They  ought  to  know,  if  they  say  so.  Ever  been 
to  sea?  " 

"Yeah,  two  years  afore  the  mast." 

"What  do  you  want  to  join  the  navy  for?" 

"I  want  to  help  lick  the  Johnny  Bulls." 

"Good!  I  guess  you '11  do.  Lieutenant, "turning 
to  a  young  officer  at  his  side,  "here  's  a  new  middy 
for  you;  see  that  his  papers  are  made  out!  " 

A  midshipman !  With  cold  hands,  a  stuffed  feel- 
ing about  the  heart,  and  an  overpowering  sense  of 
responsibility,  Zach  came  forth  from  the  old  inn. 

So  far  it  had  all  been  a  dream,  and  not  until  an 
hour  after,  when,  rigged  out  in  a  cap,  a  blue  jacket, 
and  a  dirk,  he  stepped  on  board  the  ship's  long-boat 
to  be  rowed  over  to  the  frigate,  did  the  reality  of  it 
take  hold  on  him. 

"The  Constitution,  forty -four  guns,  Captain  Isaac 
Hull."  Zach  had  read  the  description  on  a  poster  in 
the  tap-room  of  the  tavern ;  but  little  did  he  dream, 
when  he  set  foot  upon  the  narrow  deck,  that  he  was 
entering  upon  the  scene  of  heroic  and  illustrious 
deeds  soon  to  be  achieved. 

As  little  did  any  of  the  ship's  company,  from  Cap- 


172  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

tain  Hull  down  to  the  lowest  of  his  four  hundred 
and  fifty  seamen,  dream  that  within  a  very  few  days 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  country  and  of  keen-eyed 
watchers  all  over  the  world  would  be  fixed  in  breath- 
less interest  upon  them  and  their  vessel. 

At  last  all  was  ready,  and  one  hot  July  morning 
they  weighed  anchor  and  sailed  away  down  the  bay. 
As,  with  a  certain  feeling  of  exultation,  Zach  stood 
upon  the  deck  watching  the  receding  shore,  the  new 
life  opening  before  him  naturally  suggesting  the  old, 
he  suddenly  thought  of  Sandy.  It  was  for  the  first 
time  in  many  weeks.  He  was  astonished  at  his  own 
remissness,  and  felt  a  pang  of  good,  honest  remorse. 
However,  it  could  not  be  helped  now.  If  Sandy 
only  knew  what  had  happened  I  If  he  only  knew 
that  it  was  while  in  quest  of  him  this  new  venture 
had  been  undertaken,  he  would  forgive  all.  With 
these  comforting  thoughts  he  fumbled  in  his  pocket 
for  the  skipper's  letter,  and  discovered  with  a  fresh 
pang  that  it  had  been  left  with  his  old  duds  ashore. 

He  was  aroused  from  his  musing  by  a  call  to  duty. 
He  soon  found  that  sentiment  was  to  have  no  part 
in  his  new  life.  Never  before  had  he  realized  the 
golden  truth  that  the  present  is  the  only  point  of 
time  with  which  a  living,  breathing  man  has  any- 
thing to  do.  For  the  rest,  action  was  the  regimen, 
obedience  the  motto,  of  all  around  him.  Incessantly, 
morning,  noon,  and  night,  the  crew  were  exercised. 
Mind  and  body  alike  were  trained.  Far  from  be- 
ing chiefly  physical,  this  drill  was  in  the  highest 
sense  moral.  Discipline,  loyalty,  confidence  in 
themselves  and  each  other,  and  abounding  faith 


ZACHARY  PHI  PS.  173 

iii  their  commander  were  its  victorious  and  availing 
results. 

Although  when  the  Constitution  sailed  out  of 
Annapolis  the  whole  country  was  buzzing  with  ru- 
mors of  British  cruisers  hovering  along  the  coast, 
a  week  passed  without  their  meeting  a  sail,  —  a  week 
in  which  a  mob  of  recruits  was  quickly  changed  into 
a  disciplined  crew,  in  which  the  ignorance  and  trep- 
idation of  the  novice  gave  place  to  something  akin 
to  the  self-reliance  and  precision  of  the  veteran. 

The  interval  was  all  too  short.  Every  precious 
moment  of  that  preparatory  time  was  needed  and 
improved,  for  the  ordeal  was  close  at  hand. 

Sailing  northward,  one  afternoon,  along  the  coast, 
the  lookout  suddenly  announced  "four  sail  on  the 
northern  board,  heading  to  westward."  The  sensa- 
tion caused  by  this  report  had  hardly  abated  when 
a  fifth  sail  hove  in  sight  in  the  northeast.  In  the 
blinding  light  of  the  setting  sun  shining  on  a  dead 
level  with  their  eyes,  the  character  of  the  strangers 
could  not  be  made  out.  Neither  was  Zach  at  all 
clear  whether  it  was  due  to  design  or  a  shifting  of 
the  wind  that  the  Constitution,  with  stay-sails  and 
studding-sails  set,  wore  slowly  around  to  the  east- 
ward, so  as  to  approach  the  last  comer. 

The  situation  was  in  the  highest  degree  dramatic, 
while,  as  if  to  complete  and  prolong  the  suspense, 
night  fell  like  a  curtain  upon  the  scene.  Presently 
through  the  gathering  darkness  there  resounded  the 
fierce  roll  of  the  drum  calling  the  men  to  quarters 
for  action.  Heard  for  the  first  time,  it  had  a  blood- 
curdling sound,  and  Zach  felt  his  pulses  beat  and 


174  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

his  muscles  grow  limp.  It  proved,  however,  only  a 
precautionary  measure.  Nothing  definite  was  yet 
known  of  the  stranger.  She  might  prove  a  friend. 
To  clear  up  the  uncertainty,  signals  were  repeatedly 
shown  by  the  Constitution,  but  without  result. 

The  night  was  long-drawn  and  anxious.  Sleep 
was  unthought  of.  At  daylight  the  solitary  vessel 
was  only  half  a  mile  distant  on  the  port  tack,  the 
others  had  disappeared. 

So  said  the  lookout,  but  the  report  proved  illu- 
sory. Hardly  had  the  anxious  watchers  drawn  a 
breath  of  relief,  when  there  came  the  startling  an- 
nouncement that  the  squadron  had  reappeared  in 
the  offing,  and  were  exchanging  signals  with  the 
solitary  stranger! 

All  doubt  was  now  at  an  end;  their  character  was 
revealed :  they  were  all  members  of  the  same  fleet. 
Clear,  too,  was  the  situation.  Like  a  pack  of  hounds 
hot  upon  the  scent,  five  of  the  best  cruisers  of  the 
British  navy  were  trimming  sail  to  run  down  and 
destroy  one  poor  Yankee  frigate.  It  was  to  be  a 
race  for  life. 

For  life !  Let  history  tell,  and  tell  again  to  each 
succeeding  age,  how  vastly  greater  was  the  issue  ; 
how  it  was  a  race  for  a  nation's  honor,  a  people's 
welfare,  a  race  run  over  a  boundless  course,  with  no 
chance  of  refuge  nor  hope  of  succor  from  heaven  or 
earth,  save  in  the  resources  of  one  stout-hearted  man ! 

With  bated  breath  Zach  looked  at  that  man. 
Absorbed,  he  stood  apart  upon  the  quarter-deck,  not- 
ing every  detail  of  the  situation,  and  silently  meas- 
uring himself  against  its  uttermost  perils,  yet  with 


ZACIIARY  PHIPS.  175 

no  tell-tale  mark  of  its  strain  upon  him  save  the 
feverish  brightness  of  his  eye  and  the  grim  resolu- 
tion of  his  mouth. 

His  plan  laid,  the  orders  came  quick  and  sharp : 
a  twenty-four  pounder  was  brought  up  from  the 
main  deck  and  run  out  aft,  reinforced  by  two  long 
guns  thrust  through  the  cabin  windows ;  the  whole 
forming  a  bristling  row  of  teeth  against  the  bold 
enemy  who  should  press  too  near. 

Then  there  fell  a  calm.  All  life  and  motion 
died  out  of  sea  and  sky.  Pursuers  and  pursued 
alike  stood  paralyzed  and  impotent,  stock-still  upon 
the  glassy  sea,  though  frantic  with  eagerness  to  go 
on.  It  was  not  for  long;  the  watchful  Hull,  with  a 
sweeping  glance  at  the  sky,  ordered  out  the  boats 
to  go  ahead  and  tow.  Zach  had  command  of  one  of 
these  boats,  and  in  his  excitement  swore  like  a  veteran 
at  his  struggling  crew,  as  they  strove  to  drag  their 
noble  vessel  from  yonder  sea-hound's  pursuing  grip. 
Hour  after  .weary  hour  they  tugged  like  galley- 
slaves  at  their  task,  spurred  on  from  time  to  time 
by  the  boom  of  cannon  from  behind,  which  showed 
that  the  enemy  was  on  their  track.  For  all  their 
toil,  the  heavy  frigate  moved  but  at  a  snail's  pace. 

At  last  there  is  an  order  from  the  vessel;  the 
boats  are  called  alongside;  a  breeze  is  coming. 
Gladly  the  weary  sailors  obey  the  signal.  The 
.ilert  captain  has  the  studding-sails  already  spread 
when  they  come  up  the  side. 

Alack,  it  proves  a  false  alarm.  The  promised 
breeze  is  but  a  puff,  an  infant's  breath.  Instantly 
the  order  comes,  the  sails  are  furled;  the  whole 


176  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

manoeuvre  has  been  executed  like  the  opening  and 
shutting  of  an  umbrella. 

Again  —  there  is  no  help  for  it  —  the  exhausted 
men  are  ordered  into  the  boats.  It  is  a  struggle 
against  great  odds,  and  notwithstanding  every  nerve 
is  strained,  the  enemy  begins  to  gain.  Zach  looks 
on  with  anguish  of  heart.  He  glances  in  despair 
at  the  captain.  That  steadfast  official  is  not  yet  at 
the  end  of  his  resources. 

"Run  out  a  kedge,  — quick!  "  is  his  order  to  the 
sailing-master. 

"Forecastlemen,  get  up  a  kedge!  "  bawls  the  sail- 
ing-master, jumping  down  on  the  deck.  "Pass  it 
on  to  the  first  launch !  Run  up  hawser  from  below 
and  bend  it  on!  Run  out  ahead!  Bear  a  hand, 
you  lubbers !  Jump  for  your  lives !  " 

The  thing  is  done  as  if  it  had  been  rehearsed. 
In  a  trice  an  anchor  is  run  out  far  ahead,  and  the 
vessel  dragged  by  stalwart  hands  silently  and  swiftly 
over  the  waveless  sea.  Again  and  again  the  move- 
ment is  repeated.  The  expedient  avails.  Percepti- 
bly they  regain  lost  ground,  and  the  exultant  Hull, 
as  he  glides  away,  resists  not  firing  a  derisive  salute 
at  his  pursuers. 

His  exultation  is  premature.  The  watchful  en- 
emy quickly  catch  the  trick,  and  fail  not  to  follow 
suit.  They,  too,  row,  and  tow,  and  kedge,  putting, 
withal,  the  force  of  the  whole  squadron  to  the  task 
of  thrusting  forward  one  ship  to  grapple  with  the 
Yankee. 

In  the  face  of  a  force  so  overwhelming,  the  issue 
could  not  long  be  in  doubt.  It  seemed  in  truth 


ZACIIARY  PHIPS.  177 

already  a  foregone  conclusion.  Again  Hull,  with 
unruffled  composure,  made  ready  for  action.  His 
intent  was  clear :  that  of  turning  upon  his  nearest 
pursuer  before  the  others  could  come  to  her  aid. 

Contrary  to  all  hope  and  expectation,  a  little 
wind  sprang  up.  The  American  drew  away.  Again, 
as  through  the  livelong  day,  a  lurking  demon  in 
the  clouds  above  mocked  them  with  vain  hopes. 
The  wind  was  but  his  cheating  breath,  and  lasted 
only  long  enough  to  raise  their  hearts. 

At  last,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  doubt  and  sus- 
pense, the  interminable  day  wore  to  an  end.  Night 
came,  but  brought  no  rest.  The  fugitives  felt  that 
their  enemy,  like  a  tiger  in  the  jungle,  was  ever 
crouching  and  creeping  in  their  rear.  They  dared 
not  rest  a  moment  on  their  oars.  All  through  the 
windless  summer  night  they  rowed  and  kedged, 
while  on  the  deck  the  captain  kept  sleepless  watch. 

As  the  third  day  dawned,  the  wind  freshened;  it 
was  like  breath  in  the  nostrils  of  a  fainting  creature. 
As  if  refreshed  and  strengthened,  the  frigate  pulled 
ahead,  the  persistent  enemy  following  hard  upon 
her  trail.  For  the  first  time  the  wind  fulfilled  its 
promise,  for  the  first  time  the  vessel  had  a  chance 
to  show  her  mettle.  Faithfully  she  did  her  part. 
Steadily  she  kept  her  lead.  Longer  and  longer 
grew  the  stretch  of  ruffled  water  between  her  and 
the  pursuing  fleet.  Hope  rose  high  on  board  the 
frigate. 

Still  the  unflagging  enemy  followed  on,  ready  to 
take  instant  advantage  of  any  blunder  or  mishap. 
They  were  wise.  A  crucial  moment  was  at  hand. 


178  ZACHABY  PIIIPS. 

Far  to  the  west  a  black  spot  appeared  in  the  sky. 
The  jaded,  haggard  captain  of  the  Constitution  did 
not  fail  to  note  it.  The  ship  was  made  ready,  the 
officers  warned,  every  man  stationed  at  his  post,  and 
not  a  sail  was  furled  until  the  squall  was  fairly  upon 
them.  It  came  and  went  like  a  flash,  and  as  it 
whistled  away  over  the  blackened  water,  out  flew  the 
fore  and  main  topgallant  sails,  and  away  sped  the 
frigate  beyond  all  possibility  of  capture. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  one  by  one  the  baffled  pur- 
suers, out-sailed,  out-footed,  out-manoeuvred,  faded 
away  like  ghosts  upon  the  vapory  line  of  the  hori- 
zon. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

AFTER  her  hairbreadth  escape,  the  Constitution, 
still  keeping  a  northward  course,  made  for  the  near- 
est port.  Upon  hearing  that  Boston  was  their  pur- 
posed destination,  Zach  had  an  odd  sensation  of 
shrinking,  caused,  doubtless,  by  the  ghost  of  the  old 
culprit  feeling  still  haunting  his  memory.  What- 
ever its  source,  it  grew  upon  him  more  and  more, 
as,  winding  up  among  the  shoals  and  islands  of 
the  harbor,  they  drew  near  to  the  town.  Uncon- 
sciously he  fixed  an  anxious  look  upon  the  various 
harbor-craft  they  met,  as  though  upon  each  advan- 
cing deck  he  expected  to  see  the  avenging  forms  of 
Master  Tileston  and  Marm  Dinely. 

His  suspense,  however,  was  short,  for  directly 
after  coming  to  anchor,  it  was  announced  by  the 
first  lieutenant  that  their  stay  in  port  was  to  be 
brief,  and  that  none  of  the  crew  were  to  be  allowed 
to  go  ashore. 

As  they  lay  at  a  safe  distance  from  land,  Zach 
borrowed  a  glass  and  tried  to  make  out  his  old 
home.  Despite  certain  obtruding  new  buildings,  he 
flattered  himself  that  he  could  distinguish  a  bit  of 
the  southern  gable  of  the  house  in  Salutation  Alley 
and  the  green  swaying  tops  of  the  apple-trees  in  the 
garden  behind.  For  the  rest,  the  town  was  at  once 
changed  and  familiar,  what  with  the  disappearance 


180  ZACHABT  PHIPS. 

of  Beacon  Hill  Monument,  of  divers  old  landmarks 
in  the  shape  of  windmills,  and  the  erection  of  sev- 
eral churches  and  many  large  buildings  towards  the 
South  End. 

Protected  by  the  stars  and  stripes  waving  above 
him,  and  by  bristling  rows  of  guns  beneath,  Zach 
apparently  recovered  his  equanimity,  but  it  was 
noted  that  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  when, 
their  visit  over,  they  at  last  weighed  anchor  and 
stood  down  the  bay. 

Turning  northward,  they  ran  along  the  coast  of 
Maine  and  skirted  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  whence,  stand- 
ing out  to  sea,  they  presently  fell  in  with  a  British 
packet  bound  for  Halifax.  Having  quickly  over- 
hauled and  captured  her,  a  prize  crew  was  put  on 
board,  and  her  papers,  valuables,  and  three  cabin 
passengers  were  transferred  to  the  frigate. 

Zach  was  standing  listlessly  near  the  gangway, 
leaning  on  the  bulwarks,  when  the  prisoners  came 
on  board.  He  barely  suppressed  an  outcry.  No- 
body, however,  heeded  his  agitation,  for  his  ship- 
mates were  too  much  taken  up  with  the  examination 
of  their  new  prize,  the  first  they  had  captured.  Be- 
sides, nothing  specially  noteworthy  had  happened: 
a  half -grown  girl  had  quietly  walked  up  the  gang- 
way led  by  a  stalwart  sailor  and  followed  by  a  maid 
and  a  tall,  middle-aged  man,  in  whom  Zach  had  rec- 
ognized old  acquaintances. 

With  an  assurance  partly  national  and  partly  in- 
dividual, Falconer,  having  comforted  his  daughter, 
addressed  himself  at  once  to  Captain  Hull,  claiming 
that  he  was  a  private  citizen  engaged  in  his  own 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  181 

business,  protesting  that  this  detention  would  work 
him  great  damage,  and  demanding  that  he  be  al- 
lowed to  proceed  on  his  way. 

Captain  Hull  might  have  been  excused  for  smiling 
at  this  request,  but  save  for  a  sly  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  he  showed  no  sense  of  any  humor  in  the  situa- 
tion as  he  bluntly  expressed  his  regret,  pleaded  the 
exigencies  of  war,  and  tendered  the  hospitality  of 
his  cabin  to  his  enforced  guests.  Falconer  showed 
himself  a  man  of  the  world  by  recognizing  the  situa- 
tion, accepting  the  proffered  hospitality,  and  making 
the  best  of  a  bad  bargain.  Sylvia,  the  while,  stood 
by,  regarding  the  captain  with  an  expression  of  un- 
feigned horror. 

After  the  interview,  the  trio  were  shown  below. 
They  passed  close  to  Zach.  At  their  approach  a 
deep  flush  overspread  his  face,  and  a  wistful,  expec- 
tant look  shone  in  his  eyes.  Preoccupied  with  their 
own  position,  the  prisoners  included  him  only  in  the 
sweeping  general  glance  they  cast  about  the  vessel, 
and  passed  on  without  recognition.  Zach  gazed 
after  them  with  a  dazed  look. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  Sylvia  did  not 
appear  again  that  day.  To  his  surprise,  and  much 
to  the  bewilderment  of  his  notions  on  the  relations 
of  captor  and  captive,  however,  Zach  saw  Falconer 
in  the  evening  pacing  the  quarter-deck,  and  engaged 
in  amicable  conversation  with  Captain  Hull. 

Next  morning,  Zach  was  on  duty  directing  the 
cleaning  of  the  guns  in  the  after  -  division,  when 
Sylvia  appeared  on  the  main  deck.  Evidently  she 
had  already  lost  her  fear  of  the  captain,  and  was 


182  ZACHAKY  PHIPS. 

deep  in  his  good  graces,  for  she  held  him  by  the 
hand,  and  was  chattering  away  with  the  utmost  free- 
dom, to  the  manifest  delight  of  the  bluff  seaman. 
The  pair  seemed  to  be  making  a  survey  of  the  ves- 
sel, and  the  indulgent  officer  was  patiently  answer- 
ing the  flood  of  questions  prompted  by  the  girl's 
eager  curiosity. 

As  they  approached  the  spot  where  Zach  stood, 
he  was  seized  with  an  impulse  to  fly.  The  uncon- 
scious stress  of  discipline  prevailed :  he  stood  by  his 
post  and  went  on  with  his  work. 

The  two  came  nearer.  Now  Zach  could  hear  their 
voices,  now  distinguish  their  very  words.  It  was 
Sylvia  who  was  talking. 

"Truly,  are  you  a  Yankee?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  you  must  be  a  bad  man." 

"Why  so?" 

"All  the  Yankees  are  bad." 

"What  do  they  do  that  is  so  bad?  " 

"They  cheat,  and  steal,  and  never  tell  the  truth." 

"Humph!" 

"Yes,  and  now  they  are  fighting  the  king's  army 
and  navy;  but  they  will  get  beaten." 

"The  poor  Yankees!  so  they  are  going  to  be 
beaten?" 

"Yes,  because  they  are  such  cowards ;  they  always 
run  away." 

"It  serves  them  right  to  be  beaten,  then." 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  the  king  is  going  to  send  out  some 
big,  strong  ships,  and  catch  all  the  Yankee  ships  and 
burn  them." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  183 

"Whew!  and  where  did  you  hear  all  this?  " 

"In  London;  everybody  there  knows  it,  and  papa 
says  so  too ;  so  you  had  better  look  out.  But  I  hope 
they  won't  catch  you!  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  you  are  not  like  a  Yankee.  You  are 
like  an  Englishman! " 

"God  forbid!" 

"Besides,  I  don't  want  them  to  catch  you,  — I 
like  you!  "  pursued  the  confiding  little  maiden. 

"  Good,  good,  my  dear !  Let  us  strike  hands  on 
that !  You  and  I  will  be  friends,  and  leave  the  king 
and  the  Yankees  to  fight  it  out  between  themselves. 
Give  way  there,  Phips,  and  let  us  pass!  " 

This  command  was  given  to  Zach,  who  stood  bend- 
ing over  his  task  with  his  back  to  the  approaching 
pair.  Instantly  he  drew  aside,  stood  erect,  and 
saluted.  With  a  casual  glance  at  him,  Sylvia  passed 
along.  Presently  she  turned  back  for  a  second  look, 
then  stopped  and  studied  him  with  a  scowl  of  per- 
plexity. Zach  colored  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  A 
flash  of  intelligence  lighted  up  the  girl's  face ;  she 
flew  towards  him,  crying,  — 

"Zach!  Zach!  Papa!  Come  quick  and  see.  Here 
is  our  Zach! " 

Overjoyed  at  the  greeting,  but  abashed  by  the 
presence  of  the  captain,  Zach  stood,  receiving  the 
caresses  of  his  old  playmate,  unable  to  answer  a 
word  to  the  incoherent  questions  she  poured  forth. 

"Why,  Zach!  Oh,  Zach,  how  came  you  here? 
Oh,  you  are  grown  up  so  —  so  big,  I  didn't  know 
you ;  and  —  your  hair  is  cut  off  so  short,  —  and  you 


184  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

have  that  funny  cap  on ;  and  did  you  bring  Sandy, 
too?  When  did  you  come  away?  And  where  is 
Elaine?  Oh,  I  am  so  glad!  But"  —  she  suddenly 
checked  her  enthusiasm,  as  a  thought  struck  her, — 
"what  are  you  doing  on  this  ship?  Are  you  a  pris- 
oner, too?  Oh,  Zach,  have  you  gone  and  turned  a 
Yankee?" 

This  appalling  suspicion  so  affected  her  that  she 
paused,  and  fixed  upon  her  old  friend  a  withering 
glance  of  accusation. 

The  charge  of  being  a  turncoat  so  touched  Zach's 
pride  that  he  found  his  tongue  speedily  enough  and 
answered  bluntly,  — 

"No,  I  ain't  turned  anything.  I  am  a  Yankee, 
I  always  was  a  Yankee,  and  I  always  shall  be  a 
Yankee." 

Shocked  to  her  heart's  core  by  this  avowal,  Sylvia 
stood,  unable  to  say  a  word.  The  captain,  mean- 
while, who  had  looked  on  with  quiet  amusement,  now 
interposed. 

"So  you  know  Phips,  then,  my  dear?  " 

"He  is  n't  Phips,  he  is  Zach.     He  used  to  live 

with  us  at  Basswood,  and  sail  the  yacht,  he  and 

Sandy ;  but  he  was  a  little  boy  then,  and  had  long 

hair,  but"  —  she  paused  and  her  lip  trembled —  "I 

- 1  didn  't  know  he  was  a  Yankee !  " 

Overcome  by  the  shock  of  this  discovery,  Sylvia 
burst  into  tears,  gazing  with  reproachful  eyes  upon 
Zach,  as  though  he  had  willfully  transformed  himself 
into  a  monster. 

Taken  quite  aback  by  this  outburst,  Zach  stood, 
at  a  loss  what  to  do  or  say.  His  perplexity  was  in- 
creased by  the  unexpected  behavior  of  Hull. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  185 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  cried,  turning  upon 
Zach,  "by  being  a  Yankee?  Shame  upon  you!  — 
explain  yourself,  sir  !  " 

Deceived  by  the  mock  severity  of  the  captain's 
tone, — he  had  not  heeded  his  words, —  Zach  began 
to  stammer. 

"Tut!  tut!  don't  try  to  excuse  yourself!  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed,  I  say,  of  such  behavior.  Take 
yourself  off,  sir,  and  don't  let  it  happen  again  !" 

Awaking  tardily  to  the  humor  of  the  situation,  Zach 
was,  yet,  a  little  in  doubt  how  to  treat  his  superi- 
or's grotesque  command.  Evidently  he  thought 
it  better  to  err  on  the  safe  side,  for,  saluting  awk- 
wardly, he  turned  to  move  away.  Directly,  Sylvia 
interposed. 

"Don't  send  him  away;  don't  let  him  go,  Captain 
Hull.  I  didn't  mean  to  say  it.  I  'm  sorry,  Zach! 
Perhaps  you  can't  help  it.  I  hope  Elaine  hasn't 
turned  a  Yankee,  too." 

At  this  moment  Falconer  appeared  upon  deck, 
and  Sylvia  ran  to  drag  him  to  the  spot,  crying 
eagerly,  — 

"Come  here,  come  here  quick,  papa.  What  do 
you  think?  Here  is  Zach!  " 

Showing  neither  surprise  nor  pleasure  at  the  an- 
nouncement, the  planter  surveyed  the  well-grown 
boy  in  his  neat  sailor  rig  deliberately,  making  the 
identification  complete  before  speaking. 

"So!  I'm  sorry  to  see  him  in  this  business," 
with  a  glance  at  Captain  Hull. 

Zach  compressed  his  lips,  and  strove  to  dissemble 
his  mortification. 


186  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Thereupon,  assuming  a  tone  of  kindly  interest, 
Falconer  asked  some  general  questions  about  his  life 
and  movements  since  leaving  Basswood,  and  saun- 
tered away,  leaving  the  young  midshipman  with  an 
indescribable  feeling  of  having  been  thrust  down 
unnumbered  degrees  in  the  social  scale  by  his  passing 
interview  with  the  planter.  Unable  clearly  to  ana- 
lyze this  feeling  or  detect  the  true  causes  of  it,  he 
yet  looked  after  his  old  employer  with  feelings  oddly 
compounded  of  respect,  humiliation,  and  resentment. 

Luckily,  Sylvia  gave  him  110  opportunity  to  brood 
upon  this.  As  of  old  she  demanded  his  whole  atten- 
tion. If  possible,  she  had  grown  more  despotic  than 
ever,  while  on  his  side  Zach  fell  straightway  into  his 
former  attitude  of  subjection.  Indeed,  he  evidently 
welcomed  and  found  comfort  in  the  yoke,  and  cast 
wistful  glances  about  when,  his  exacting  little  friend 
was  long  absent  from  the  deck. 

Thus  for  a  few  days  life  blossomed  again  into 
beauty  and  sweetness  on  board  this  vessel  of  war. 
His  intercourse  with  his  old  playmate  was  marked 
by  a  new  element  of  satisfaction  to  Zach.  He  felt 
and  valued  the  dignity  belonging  to  his  new  station. 
The  old  sense  of  dependence  upon  her  father  had 
gone,  and  thus  his  habitual  gravity  was  mingled  with 
a  becoming  touch  of  pride.  This  little  episode  was 
too  sweet  to  last,  and  accordingly  one  day  it  all 
came  to  an  end,  like  the  shutting  of  a  door. 

Having  explored  the  northern  waters  to  no  pur- 
pose, Captain  Hull  by  and  by  turned  southward. 
The  day  after  altering  his  course,  the  lookout  an- 
nounced a  sail  in  the  offing.  Whoever  she  might 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  187 

be,  the  stranger  seemed  bent  on  coming  to  closer 
acquaintance.  Her  identity  was  soon  revealed:  to 
Hull's  unfeigned  delight,  she  proved  to  be  the 
Guerriere,  one  of  the  most  formidable  of  the  fleet 
which  had  so  recently  given  him  chase. 

Directly,  the  man  was  transfigured,  —  his  eyes 
glowed  with  exultation,  his  muscles  grew  tense 
against  the  coming  strain.  It  was  at  once  one  of 
the  effects  of  his  temperament  and  the  secrets  of 
his  power  that  his  officers  and  crew  in  critical  mo- 
ments seemed  fired  with  his  spirit. 

The  drum  beat  to  quarters.  Every  man  hurried 
to  his  station.  Meantime  the  two  vessels,  like  ath- 
letes in  the  arena,  stripped  as  it  were  for  action. 
The  Guerriere  backed  her  main  topsail;  the  Consti- 
tution took  in  her  topgallant  sails,  staysails,  and 
flying  jib,  took  a  second  reef  in  her  topsails,  hauled 
the  courses  up,  and  sent  down  the  royal  yards. 

With  one  last  glance  at  the  enemy,  who,  bristling 
with  menace,  was  awaiting  their  approach,  Zach 
hurried  below  to  the  main  deck,  where  he  had  charge 
of  one  of  the  guns.  In  the  portentous  pause  before 
the  conflict  began,  he  bethought  him  of  the  prisoners, 
and  remembered  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  an  hour 
before,  greatly  to  the  indignation  of  the  planter, 
they  had  been  ordered  to  the  hold. 

Meantime  a  dull  boom  announced  that  the  action 
had  begun.  Shut  in  between  the  decks,  with  no 
point  of  observation  but  his  port-hole,  Zach  stood 
rigid  with  expectation.  The  suspense  was  intoler- 
able. Luckily  it  was  short-lived.  Presently  there 
came  a  terrific  roar ;  the  vessel  shook  from  stem  to 


188  ZACHABY  PIIIPS. 

stern.  For  a  moment  the  earth  seemed  to  have 
stopped  in  space  and  the  frigate  to  be  sinking.  The 
enemy,  at  short  range,  had  simply  poured  in  a  broad- 
side. 

Zach  was  appalled.  His  ears  were  deafened,  his 
brain  ceased  to  act,  a  sickening  nausea  paralyzed 
heart  and  hand.  In  the  midst  of  it  all  a  hoarse 
cry  resounded.  Zach's  stunned  ears  could  not  make 
out  the  words.  He  stared  wildly  about.  Luckily 
his  men  heard  and  obeyed  the  order.  An  answering 
roar  was  heard:  the  Constitution  trembled  from 
stem  to  stern  as  she  returned,  with  deadly  effect, 
the  enemy's  fire.  The  sound,  the  action,  brought 
the  young  officer  to  his  senses,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment he  served  his  gun  like  a  veteran. 

Shut  in  between  decks,  he  could  see  nothing  of 
what  was  taking  place.  He  had  but  to  stand  and 
wait.  Meantime  the  frigate,  wearing  to  gain  ad- 
vantage, or  yawing  to  avoid  a  broadside,  seemed 
like  a  vast  whirling  teetotum.  By  turns,  through 
the  port-holes,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  enemy's 
bow  or  stern,  now  near  at  hand,  now  vanishing  from 
sight. 

As  the  fight  went  on,  every  element  of  doubt  and 
terror  combined  to  dismay  the  young  midshipman : 
the  confused  cries  and  orders  -  and  rushing  of  feet 
from  the  upper  deck,  the  crash  of  spars,  timber,  and 
rigging,  the  shrieks  of  the  wounded,  the  dread 
booming  of  the  cannon,  the  continuous  roar  of  the 
sea,  which,  as  if  eager  to  join  the  carnival  of  vio- 
lence, boiled  up  from  the  depths,  filled  the  port- 
holes with  blinding  spray,  and  fell  with  a  sizzling 
sound  upon  the  heated  guns. 


ZACH ART  PHIPS.  189 

In  the  culminating  awfulness  of  the  moment  Zach 
lost  all  sense  of  fear.  One  instinct  alone  possessed 
him :  the  old  brutish  instinct  to  fight.  Directly  it 
acquired  sway,  he  became  insensible  to  every  other 
consideration. 

The  scene  yet  lacked  a  climax.  Through  the 
pandemonium,  rising  above  the  deafening  tumult, 
eclipsing  every  other  terror,  came  the  cry,  — 

"Fire!     Fire!" 

Directly  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  the  direction  of 
the  cabin  confirmed  the  report.  In  the  tumult,  the 
first  lieutenant  near  the  companion-way  vainly 
shouted  orders  which  could  not  be  heard.  Forget- 
ful of  special  duties  in  that  dire  emergency,  Zach 
ran  to  help.  He  arrived,  so  it  seemed,  none  too 
soon.  In  the  dim  light  a  row  of  black  figures  could 
be  seen  handing  buckets  from  pumps  on  the  main 
deck.  Fighting  his  way  upwards  through  the  blind- 
ing smoke  and  drenching  floods  which  deluged  the 
companion-way  was  a  tall  figure  with  a  burden  in 
his  arms.  Halfway  up,  he  stumbled  on  the  slippery 
ladder  and  fell.  Zach  sprang  down  -and  took  the 
burden  from  his  arms.  He  looked  hopelessly  about 
for  a  place  of  refuge  in  which  to  deposit  it.  There 
was  no  spot  of  safety  or  quiet  in  all  that  hell  of 
conflict.  A  man  passing  with  a  bucket  of  water,  at 
Zach's  request,  flung  a  handful  in  Sylvia's  face. 
She  revived  and  opened  her  eyes,  but  at  the  sight  of 
Zach  bending  over  her,  his  'face  streaming  with 
sweat,  blackened  with  gunpowder,  and  smeared  with 
blood,  she  straightway  swooned  again. 

At  this  moment  Falconer  appeared.     Without  a 


190  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

word,  Zach  thrust  the  unconscious  girl  into  his  arms 
and  darted  away. 

Even  in  the  few  minutes  he  had  been  gone,  the 
situation  had  changed.  Close  up  against  his  port- 
hole lay  the  Guerriere,  her  ponderous  guns  at  pistol- 
range.  Before  he  had  time  to  reach  his  place,  fire 
belched  from  all  these  iron  throats,  the  air  was  filled 
with  cries  and  groans,  the  deck  was  strewn  with 
dying  men,  flying  splinters,  disjointed  gun-car- 
riages, and  an  obscene  and  ghastly  litter,  while  the 
smoke,  heat,  and  stench  in  the  confined  space  were 
well-nigh  intolerable. 

It  was  a  soul-trying  moment.  There  and  then 
Zach  received  his  baptism  of  fire,  and  it  is  much 
to  say  that  he  came  forth  from  the  ordeal  alive  and 
sane. 

Brushing  the  obstacles  from  his  path,  he  flew  to 
his  deserted  post.  Half  his  own  men  had  been 
swept  away.  The  gun  next  him  was  silenced.  The 
lieutenant  in  command  had  fallen.  It  was  no  time 
to  hesitate,  or  wait  for  orders.  There  was  but  one 
thing  to  do :  to  return  the  blow  of  the  enemy  before 
she  could  wear  out  of  range. 

With  the  aid  of  his  half -disabled  men,  he  loaded 
and  pointed  the  two  guns.  The  British  frigate, 
fearing  the  coming  retribution,  was  struggling  with 
might  and  main  to  escape,  but  as  if  for  the  moment 
animated  by  a  malign  intelligence,  the  Constitution 
held  her  fast  in  a  death-grapple. 

Opportunely,  a  new  officer  arrived.  The  word 
was  given,  the  match  applied,  a  sheet  of  flame  for 
a  moment  lit  up  the  doomed  vessel.  Then  came  a 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  191 

crash.  A  cheer  resounded  from  the  upper  deck. 
The  cry  was  echoed  through  the  vessel,  — 

"Down  goes  her  mizzen-mast!  "  t 

Another  trampling  was  heard  above.  A  chorus 
of  oaths  and  shouts  and  orders  from  the  sailing- 
master  and  the  first  lieutenant  filled  the  interval. 

"Fire!     Fire!" 

"Give  her  hell!" 

"Helmaport!" 

"Down  goes  her  main  yard!  " 

"Hurrah!" 

"Man  the  starboard  guns!  " 

"Fire!  Fire!  Look  out  for  her  bowsprit! 
Foul  again!  Stand  by  to  board!  " 

"Marines  repel  boarders! " 

"Fire!" 

"Boarders  away! " 

A  sharp  rattle  of  musketry,  a  rush  of  feet,  and 
then  came  louder  cheers.  The  triumphant  cry 
reached  the  anxious  gunners  below. 

"He's  down!" 

"Who?" 

"The  British  cap'n!" 

"Dacres?" 

"Ay!  ay!" 

"The  day  is  ours!" 

"  Hurrah !     Hurrah !     Hurrah !  " 

The  two  ships,  working  around,  fell  apart. 
Directly,  the  Guerriere's  foremast  and  mainmast 
tumbled  overboard  on  the  starboard  side,  leaving 
her  a  helpless  wreck. 

The  fight  was  over.     The  Constitution  ran  off  to 


192  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

the  eastward  and  lay  to.  With  nimble  hands  the 
tired  but  victorious  crew  fell  to  work  repairing  the 
havoc  done  to  their  stanch  frigate. 

On  the  quarter-deck,  the  panting  hero  who  com- 
manded her  stood  mopping  his  forehead  and  casting 
back  a  significant  look  upon  his  victim.  Secure  now 
of  possession,  he  took  his  tune,  and  not  until  order 
was  in  some  sort  restored,  stood  under  her  lee  to 
receive  the  formal  surrender. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

AT  one  blow,  down  went  the  prestige  of  the  Brit- 
ish navy,  —  the  spell  of  invincibility  was  broken. 
Captain  Hull  and  Lieutenant  Morris  were  a  little 
dazed  at  their  good  luck,  —  they  dared  not  call  it  by 
any  other  name.  Two  victories  in  the  short  space 
of  a  few  weeks  might  well  have  turned  the  heads  of 
such  inexperienced  conquerors.  Nor  even  yet  did 
they  dream  of  the  moral  significance  of  their  exploits. 
It  was  not  until  they  arrived  in  port  and  witnessed 
the  delirious  joy  of  their  countrymen  that  they 
awoke  to  the  truth  that  they,  in  their  proper  persons, 
were  out-and-out  heroes.  Nor>did  Zach  himself,  al- 
though so  long  in  quest  of  some  modern  instance  of 
such  a  worthy,  ever  think  of  consulting  his  looking- 
glass.  Unhappily,  as  will  presently  appear,  he  was 
to  be  cheated  of  his  well-earned  share  in  the  coming 
triumph. 

With  the  return  of  quiet  and  order,  the  prisoners 
duly  reappeared  upon  deck,  but  with  altered  de- 
meanor. Falconer,  perhaps,  had  not  forgiven  the 
rigorous  treatment  he  had  received  at  the  hands  of 
the  captain,  while  the  effect  of  the  late  experiences 
upon  Sylvia  was  still  more  noteworthy.  She  re- 
garded Hull  with  unfeigned  terror,  and  turned  away 
from  Zach  on  his  first  approach  with  a  look  of  gen- 
uine abhorrence.  His  submissive  air,  his  quiet  at- 
tentions, were  of  no  avail ;  they  were  but  tricks  and 


194  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

glozes;  the  fiend  within  him  had  been  revealed. 
Disturbed  by  this  very  unusual  behavior,  Zach  pon- 
dered over  it,  and  came  to  his  own  conclusions. 
Watching  his  opportunity  one  day,  when  Sylvia  had 
strayed  a  few  paces  from  her  father's  side  on  the 
upper  deck,  he  approached  cautiously,  and  having 
arrived  within  earshot  without  being  perceived, 
turned  his  back  so  as  not  to  excite  alarm,  and 
began :  — 

"I  come  here  to  say  somethin'  to  you." 

Sylvia  started,  and  made  a  move  to  go. 

"And  I  want  you  to  stand  right  still  where  you 
be,  and  listen." 

The  firm  tone  in  which  this  was  said  had  its  effect. 
The  listener  hesitated,  and  lingered. 

"If  you're  actin'  like  this  'cause  we  licked  the 
Ger'reer,  I  just  want  to  tell  you  it  ain't  our  fault." 

Sylvia  made  no  comment,  but  regarded  intently 
the  averted  head  and  the  sinewy,  vigorous  figure  of 
the  speaker  as  he  leaned  against  the  taffrail. 

"The  Johnny  Bulls  come  over  here  from  England 
to  fight  us,  an'  you  don't  think  but  what  we  're  goin' 
to  lick  'em  if  we  can,  do  you?" 

There  was  no  answer,  and  the  speaker,  encouraged 
by  the  hearing  he  had  gained,  went  on,  — 

"They  ben  stealin'  our  men,  an*  stoppin'  our 
ships,  an'  tramplin'  round  on  the  Yankees  long 
enough,  an'  I  guess  they  '11  find  they  got  to  stop. 
An'  I  just  want  to  say  if  you  're  such  a  Johnny  Bull 
that  you  hate  anybody  'cos  he 's  a  Yankee,  all 
right!  You  can  go  on  actin'  so,  that 's  all." 

This  speech  was  not  much  in  the  way  of  rhetoric, 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  195 

but  it  was  pronounced  in  a  new  and  masterful  tone 
which  distinctly  charmed  while  it  startled  the  hearer. 
Was  this  her  old-time  thrall  speaking?  Was  this 
the  ragged  little  boat-boy  of  Bass  wood,  her  father's 
hireling?  She  was  dimly  conscious  of  something 
behind  the  mere  words  which  had  been  said,  of 
claims  to  recognition,  claims  to  independence,  claims 
to  equality,  if  not  superiority,  which,  in  their  sudden 
development,  puzzled  her  girlish  wits. 

Busied  with  these  thoughts,  she  waited  for  him  to 
speak  again.  He  had  said  his  say,  however,  and 
remained  silent. 

She  gazed  at  him  wonderingly,  as  he  stood  with  his 
side  face  in  relief  against  the  white  background  of 
the  mizzen,  unconsciously  impressed  by  its  inflexible 
maxillary  outline. 

"What  have  I  done?"  she  asked  falteringly. 

"You've  ben  offish!"  The  retort  was  prompt 
and  sharp.  "And  I  say,  suit  yourself!  Go  on,  an' 
be  as  offish  as  you  like!  " 

Sylvia  checked  a  movement  to  speak.  A  sudden 
change  came  over  her  face,  softening  the  eyes,  re- 
laxing certain  seldom-used  little  muscles,  blooming 
in  a  fleeting  glow  upon  her  cheeks,  and  giving  to 
her  whole  expression  for  a  moment  the  maturity  of 
womanhood.  Then  with  a  sudden  resumption  of  her 
old  impetuosity,  she  sprang  forward,  saying,  — 

"Don't  say  any  more  such  silly  things!  I  am  not 
a  Johnny  Bull,  or  if  I  am,  I  don't  want  the  Yan- 
kees to  be  beaten.  I  don't  want  anybody  to  be 
beaten,  and  I  don't  want  to  see  any  more  fighting 
—  ever  —  ever  —  ever!  Oh,  I  never  thought  any- 


196  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

thing  could  be  so  dreadful.  And  you  —  I  woke  up 
last  night  and  screamed  for  papa;  a  horrid  buga- 
boo was  coming  after  me,  and  he  had  a  face  just  like 
yours  when  "  —  She  finished  with  a  shudder. 

Zach  listened  with  a  look  half  flattered,  half 
abashed. 

"If  I  ever  see  you  look  like  that  again,  I 
would  n't  —  I  could  n't  come  near  you  any  more !  " 

This  little  understanding  had  the  effect  of  bring- 
ing back  their  intercourse  to  its  old  familiar  foot- 
ing. Having  upheld  the  dignity  of  a  midshipman 
by  boldly  asserting  his  rights  and  defining  his  posi- 
tion, Zach  straightway  proceeded  to  stultify  himself 
by  yielding  unconditionally  to  the  boundless  caprice 
of  his  old  playmate,  but  always,  as  will  presently 
appear,  with  a  saving  of  duty. 

One  morning  the  idlers  on  deck  were  startled  by 
a  cry  from  the  lookout,  "A  sail  on  the  starboard 
quarter." 

The  excitement  which  followed  was  speedily 
quieted  by  the  discovery  that  it  was  only  a  merchant- 
man. The  Constitution,  with  the  wind  on  her  port 
beam,  ran  down  upon  the  stranger  in  good  style, 
and  captured  her  without  so  much  as  a  flash  of  gun- 
powder. 

The  prize  having  a  valuable  cargo,  Captain  Hull 
decided  to  convey  her  into  harbor  in  his  train.  A 
prize  crew  was  detailed,  and  casting  about  for  a  fit 
person  to  put  in  command,  the  captain  singled  out 
Zach. 

It  was  a  proud  moment  for  the  young  midship- 
man. A  little  incident  made  it  memorable.  Falconer 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  197 

stood  by  when  he  came  to  get  his  orders.  Glancing 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  however,  the 
young  officer  saluted,  and  marched  away  to  take 
possession  of  his  charge. 

Fifteen  minutes  afterwards,  as  he  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  companion-way,  waiting  to  be  put  on  board 
the  merchantman,  Sylvia,  who  had  just  heard  the 
news,  came  rushing  up. 

"Oh,  Zach,  is  it  true?  Are  you  really  going? 
Do  not !  Please  do  not !  Ask  him  to  send  somebody 
else!" 

The  preoccupied  midshipman  lent  only  half  an 
ear  to  this  appeal. 

"  Zach,  do  you  hear  ?  Tell  Captain  Hull  to  send 
somebody  else.  Do  not  go !  " 

"Poh,  poh,  I  shall  be  in  sight  all  the  time.  I 
must  keep  company  with  you,  or  I  may  be  recap- 
tured by  the  enemy." 

"Oh,  but  if  we  get  out  of  sight  of  you?  " 

"I  shall  follow  my  course." 

"You  may  not  come  to  land  until  long  after  we 
do." 

"Very  good,  I  will  come  in  at  my  leisure." 

"Then  we  shall  be  gone." 

"Eh!"  The  hearer's  preoccupied  eyes  were 
turned  towards  the  forecastle. 

"Papa  will  set  off  for  Nassau  the  very  minute  he 
puts  foot  on  shore." 

For  all  reply  to  this  argument,  the  impatient 
midshipman  stepped  forward,  and  shouted  some 
order  to  his  lagging  crew. 

"Don't  go,  Zach!" 


198  ZACI1ABY  PHIPS. 

"I  must." 

There  was  a  crisp  inflexibility  to  this  answer  which 
discouraged  further  appeal.  With  streaming  eyes, 
Sylvia  turned  and  walked  away  to  the  cabin,  to 
avoid  seeing  the  departure.  Her  emotion  and  move- 
ment were  alike  unheeded  by  the  anxious  young 
officer. 

But  Midshipman  Phips  found  it  not  so  easy  to 
keep  company  with  his  convoy ;  a  storm  arose  in  the 
night,  and  they  lost  sight  of  each  other.  Driven 
furthermore  from  his  course  by  contrary  winds,  he 
was  glad  enough  to  make  the  nearest  port  at  hand. 
This  proved  to  be  New  York. 

As  his  ship  had  suffered  much  damage,  he  took 
the  responsibility  of  disregarding  his  orders  to  report 
in  Boston,  and  forthwith  forwarded  to  that  town 
news  of  his  arrival. 

An  answer  came  back  by  return  mail  to  have  the 
prize  condemned  and  sold  in  New  York,  to  ship  his 
crew  to  Boston,  and  report  there  himself  so  soon  as 
the  business  connected  with  the  prize  was  dispatched. 

Here  was  a  new  business,  in  which  he  was  pro- 
foundly ignorant.  In  his  perplexity  he  dreaded  to 
set  foot  on  land;  the  perils  of  the  sea  seemed  slight 
and  intangible  compared  to  the  insidious  pitfalls  of 
the  shore. 

Pondering  the  matter,  there  came  to  mind  what 
Mrs.  Blennerhassett  had  said  about  Aaron  Burr. 
It  was  a  straw,  and  he  caught  at  it. 

Setting  on  foot  inquiries,  he  soon  learned  that  the 
ex-conspirator  was  indeed  in  the  city,  and  engaged 
in  the  practice  of  his  profession. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  199 

Zach  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  one  so  well- 
known.  Arrived  at  the  office,  he  entered  with  some- 
thing of  his  old  childish  feeling  of  awe  towards  its 
inmate.  It  was  a  small,  rather  dingy  room,  ill- 
lighted  and  meagrely  furnished,  with  an  indefinable 
air  of  having  been  long  given  over  to  dust  and  cob- 
webs. At  the  far  end,  near  the  window,  sat  the 
redoubtable  little  figure  of  other  days,  still  erect, 
still  trim,  still  graceful  in  outline.  Zach  advanced  a 
few  steps  and  paused.  Remembrances  of  the  great 
conspiracy,  sensational  rumors,  strange  reports, 
wild  tales,  not  a  few  of  which  had  since  come  to  his 
ears  concerning  the  remarkable  person  he  was  about 
to  confront,  stayed  his  steps  and  embarrassed  his 
greeting. 

Burr  raised  his  head ;  the  face  was  calm  and  cold, 
and  the  eyes  seemingly  as  brilliant  as  of  old,  but 
the  figure, — what  had  happened  to  that?  Had  it 
shriveled  with  age,  or  had  Zach  forgotten  how  small 
it  used  to  be  ? 

A  little  touch  of  suspicion  showed  in  his  face 
when  Zach  announced  himself  as  a  former  acquaint- 
ance. It  was  gone  in  a  moment,  however,  and  the 
commander  rose  and  received  him  with  impressive 
courtesy.  The  manner,  indeed,  had  all  its  old  state- 
liness  and  charm,  but  in  jarring  contrast  to  this 
personal  elegance  Zach  was  pained  to  see  that  his 
coat  was  threadbare,  and  his  linen  soiled  and  ragged. 

Far  from  showing  any  elation,  however,  on  learn- 
ing Zach's  errand,  he  entered  upon  his  docket  the 
minutes  of  this  very  profitable  piece  of  business  with 
the  admirable  unconcern  of  one  to  whom  it  was  an 
hourly  duty. 


200  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Their  business  finished,  the  attorney  invited  his 
new  client  to  dine.  For  obvious  reasons  Zach 
would  gladly  have  declined,  but  fearing  to  wound 
the  sensibilities  of  his  inviter,  reluctantly  accepted. 
Adjourned  to  a  neighboring  restaurant,  moreover, 
he  speedily  forgot  all  scruples,  charmed  with  his 
host's  irresistible  hospitality  and  inspired  with  a 
sense  of  confidence  in  his  unlimited  resources.  The 
dinner  in  the  way  of  meat  and  drink  was  the  best 
that  the  house  afforded;  for  the  rest,  rising  trium- 
phantly above  every  disadvantage  of  surroundings, 
his  host  succeeded  in  investing  it  with  a  tone  of  ele- 
gance quite  new  to  the  guest's  experience.  The 
talk,  too,  was  not  to  be  forgotten.  It  consisted,  for 
the  most  part,  of  criticism  upon  public  men  and 
affairs.  Although  startled  by  the  boldness  of  many 
of  the  sentiments,  the  hearer  was  at  the  same  time 
disarmed  by  the  inimitable  manner  in  which  all  was 
pronounced,  —  a  manner  not  only  without  heat, 
without  undue  emphasis,  without  volubility,  but  so 
combining  calmness,  audacity,  and  sententiousness, 
as  almost  to  compel  assent. 

The  feast  over,  Zach  noted  with  concern  that  his 
host  had  a  long  and  mysterious  discussion  with  the 
waiter,  followed  by  a  longer  and  more  earnest  one 
with  the  proprietor  himself.  Whatever  its  purport, 
it  ended  pacifically,  and  the  host  came  back  to  his 
guest  with  a  look  of  satisfaction.  As  they  after- 
wards strolled  down  Broadway,  Zach  remarked  that 
his  companion  seemed  not  to  notice  the  many  curious 
glances  cast  at  him.  Zach  at  first  attributed  this 
to  preoccupation,  but  changed  his  mind  later.  A 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  201 

richly -appointed  carriage  drove  up  to  the  curbstone, 
and  a  large,  important-looking  man  stepped  out  in 
their  very  faces.  A  fleeting  look  of  recognition 
passed  between  the  two.  Burr  bowed  with  effusive- 
ness ;  the  other,  gazing  directly  at  his  former  friend, 
with  deadly  disregard  passed  on  without  returning 
the  courtesy. 

Quivering  with  indignation,  Zach  turned  toward 
his  companion,  but  was  amazed  to  see  upon  his  face 
no  trace  of  annoyance  or  mortification.  Thereupon 
a  sickening  thought  came  to  him:  such  insensibility 
could  only  be  the  result  of  a  long  acquaintance  with 
contumely.  They  stopped  at  last  upon  the  corner 
of  a  small  street  running  out  of  Broadway.  About 
to  take  leave,  Zach  lingered  to  discuss  some  forgot- 
ten detail  of  the  business  connected  with  the  prize. 
Leaning  upon  the  stall  of  a  dealer  in  second-hand 
books,  Burr  explained  the  point,  the  while  idly 
thumbing  a  volume  upon  the  stand.  The  watchful 
trader  at  once  came  forward. 

"  I  can  let  ye  have  that,  mister,  at  a  bargain ;  a 
rare  edition,  fine  type,  half  calf,  not  a  crack  in  it, 
an'  with  a  portrait,  — see!  " 

Without  allowing  time  for  protest,  the  zealous 
salesman  opened  to  the  frontispiece  and  displayed  a 
speaking  likeness  of  the  subject  of  the  biography. 

As  he  glared  at  the  opened  book,  an  inarticulate 
noise  like  a  gasp  came  from  the  beholder.  He  strove 
to  speak,  but  as  if  choked  by  a  sudden  dryness  of 
the  throat  could  not  bring  forth  a  word.  His  skin 
visibly  changed  in  hue  from  its  normal  pallor  to  a 
greenish  yellow,  while  to  the  measureless  astonish- 


202  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

ment  of  his  client  he  turned  with  a  hurried  gesture 
and  slunk  away  around  the  nearest  corner. 

Attracted  by  an  exclamation  from  the  bookseller, 
Zach  looked  down,  and  his  eyes  for  the  first  time  fell 
upon  the  book.  There  was  nothing  extraordinary 
about  it :  the  life  of  a  distinguished  statesman,  well- 
known  as  one  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution. 
What  then,  —  stay !  Presently  there  came  throng- 
ing to  mind  confused  remembrances  of  some  old 
tragedy  in  which  the  commander  had  part.  And 
was  this,  then,  the  —  a  plague  upon  his  memory,  with 
her  mists  and  fogs !  The  one  vivid  impression  upon 
his  mind  in  connection  with  the  event  was  the  word 
Hoboken,  a  name  odd  and  uncanny  to  his  New  Eng- 
land ears.  Pondering  the  matter  on  his  homeward 
way,  he  was  haunted  by  that  solitary  figure  in  the 
dingy  office,  the  askant  looks  of  the  populace,  the 
brutal  affront  of  his  fellow-citizen.  What  meant  it 
all  ?  Oh,  dread  whirligig  of  Time !  Had,  then,  the 
far-reaching  shadow  of  that  wild  Hoboken  cliff  fallen 
upon  the  strange  man  who  had  just  left  him,  fallen 
nevermore  to  be  lifted,  blackening  his  pathway  and 
blighting  his  life  to  the  end  of  time ! 

Zach  did  not  go  again,  for  several  days,  to  consult 
his  lawyer,  and  then  learned  to  his  dismay  that  in 
the  matter  of  his  prize  a  claim  had  been  put  in  that 
she  was  a  neutral  bottom  carrying  goods  not  contra- 
band, and  that  the  suit  would  be  stoutly  contested. 

In  effect,  the  matter  resulted  in  a  prolonged  liti- 
gation, which  kept  the  disgusted  midshipman  in- 
definitely in  New  York.  Meantime  he  was  amazed 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  203 

at  the  prodigious  stir  made  about  the  little  affair 
between  the  Constitution  and  the  Guerriere.  The 
whole  country  rang  with  jubilations.  It  was  mad- 
dening to  be  absent  from  the  dear  old  frigate  and 
his  fellows  at  such  a  time.  In  the  midst  of  it  all 
came  the  stupefying  report  that  Captain  Hull  had 
resigned.  Resigned,  and  for  a  cause  so  puerile,  — 
to  be  married !  It  was  incredible.  Although  ser- 
vice on  the  Constitution  under  another  commander 
could  hardly  be  conceived,  he  nevertheless  longed 
to  be  back.  Already  sufficiently  enraged  at  the 
law's  endless  delay,  he  was  driven  quite  beside  him- 
self by  the  fast  succeeding  reports  of  the  glorious 
victory  of  Decatur,  captain  of  the  United  States, 
and  of  the  sailing  of  the  Constitution  from  Boston 
on  another  cruise. 

He  felt  slighted  and  neglected,  checked  in  his 
career,  and  cheated  of  his  rights.  He  was  hardly 
appeased  by  the  news  that  Hull  and  Decatur  were 
corning  to  New  York  to  take  part  in  a  grand  glori- 
fication over  their  victories,  and  that  Congress  had 
munificently  ordered  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  be 
divided  among  the  officers  and  crew  of  the  Consti- 
tution. 

Amid  the  clangor  of  bells,  the  booming  of  cannon, 
and  the  huzzahs  of  the  multitude,  the  heroic  pair 
duly  arrive*.  Zach  lost  no  time  in  waiting  upon 
his  old  captain,  when  it  transpired  that,  after  all, 
he  need  not  have  stayed  dancing  attendance  upon 
the  courts,  but  might  as  well  have  gone  off  with  his 
ship  on  her  new  cruise.  The  unflattering  truth 
appeared ;  he  had  simply  been  forgotten.  His  out- 


204  ZACHARY  PII1PS. 

raged  feelings  were  not  assuaged  by  Captain  Hull's 
kind  commendation  of  his  fidelity,  nor  by  the  pay- 
ment to  him  of  his  share  of  the  money  voted  by 
Congress  to  the  officers  and  crew. 

He  stuffed  the  roll  of  bills  in  his  trousers  pocket, 
and  on  reaching  home  tossed  it  contemptuously  on 
the  table.  Coming  upon  it,  however,  next  morning 
in  a  cooler  mood,  he  bethought  him  to  count  it,  and 
uttered  a  cry  of  astonishment. 

A  thousand  dollars!  A  thousand,  and  all  his 
own!  It  was  the  wealth  of  the  Indies.  What  to 
do  with  so  vast  a  sum ! 

Quite  at  a  loss  to  decide  for  himself,  he  resolved 
to  consult  his  lawyer,  and  thereupon  remembered 
that  he  had  an  appointment  to  meet  Captain  Hull 
at  Burr's  office  at  midday. 

"A  thousand  dollars!  "  There  was  a  momentary 
kindling  in  the  lawyer's  eyes  on  hearing  the  amount. 
"A  large  sum  to  carry  about  in  your  pocket! " 

"I  don't  know  what  else  to  do  with  it." 

"You  are  unskilled,  perhaps,"  went  on  the  attor- 
ney, regarding  his  young  client  with  critical  atten- 
tion, "in  making  investments?" 

"I  never  had  any  to  make;  that's  why  I  have 
come  to  consult  you." 

"Humph!  I  have  my  self  in  years  past  done  a  good 
deal  in  that  way,"  with  watchful  ey*  still  fixed 
upon  his  client,  "and  if  you  want "  — 

"Yes,  yes,  I  do.  I  would  like  to  have  you  take 
and  invest  it.." 

"I  might  try,"  with  a  careless  little  wave  of  the 
hand. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  205 

Without  further  ado  Zach  drew  forth  the  crisp 
banknotes  from  his  pocket,  smoothed  them  out, 
and  extended  them  towards  his  counsel,  who 
stretched  forth  his  hand  to  take  them. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened  quickly,  and 
the  burly  figure  of  Captain  Hull  appeared  on  the 
threshold. 

Burr's  face,  long  disciplined  in  every  school  of 
dissimulation,  remained  immovable,  but  his  nerves 
were  no  longer  what  they  had  been,  and  thus  the 
sudden  entrance  of  this  keen-eyed  stranger  discom- 
posed him.  He  withdrew  his  hand  with  a  percepti- 
ble start,  but  directly  recovering  himself,  said  in  a 
tone  of  nonchalance, — 

"  Another  time,  Mr.  Phips,  —  to-morrow,  —  when- 
ever you  like.  There  is  no  haste." 

Zach  looked  puzzled,  but  made  no  comment,  and 
introduced  his  superior. 

An  hour  afterward,  when,  having  accompanied 
the  captain  home,  Zach  turned  to  take  leave,  he 
received  this  significant  parting  advice :  — 

"My  boy,  I  saw  you  having  some  money  transac- 
tion with  that  man  yonder.  I  don't  ask  any  ques- 
tions. I  don't  want  to  know  anything  about  it,  but 
I  '11  whisper  this  word  in  your  ear;  all  lawyers  are 
landsharks.  Keep  out  of  their  jaws!"" 

Making  due  allowance  for  the  bluff  sailor's  preju- 
dice, Zach  took  to  heart  the  warning,  and  pondered 
it  as  he  strolled  leisurely  homeward.  Startled  out 
of  his  reverie  by  a  heavy  slap  on  the  shoulder,  he 
looked  up  and  recognized  an  old  acquaintance,  who 
proved  to  be  no  other  than  the  midshipman  from  the 


206  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

frigate  United    States  whom   Decatur  had  sent  to 

o 

carry  to  Washington  the  news  of  his  victory,  now 
on  the  way  back  to  rejoin  his  ship. 

Pining  as  he  had  been  for  congenial  society  ever 
since  he  came  ashore,  Zach  was  delighted  at  the 
encounter.  With  their  pockets  full  of  prize  money, 
exhilarated  by  the  spirit  of  jubilation  in  the  air, 
these  two  boon  companions  spent  the  evening  in 
congratulations.  To  be  quite  frank,  it  may  as  well 
be  confessed,  they  made  a  night  of  it. 

Neither  of  them,  next  day,  could  recall  clearly 
the  events  of  that  memorable  night.  There  were 
confused  remembrances  of  a  theatre,  of  a  riotous 
supper,  and  of  finding  themselves  seated  before  a 
green  table  playing  some  game  of  chance,  in  which 
they  were  relieved  of  much  of  their  money.  Con- 
fused, too,  was  their  recollection  of  the  fracas  which 
followed,  save  that  some  sneering  civilian  had  re- 
flected upon  the  navy,  for  which  Zach's  friend 
had  promptly  kn6cked  down  and  otherwise  roughly 
handled  him.  Thereafter,  in  some  inscrutable  way, 
the  police  had  appeared,  seized  upon  the  assailant, 
and  dragged  him  off  to  the  lock-up,  Zach  boozily 
following  after,  swearing  incoherent  vengeance  upon 
the  minions  of  the  law. 

Left  alone  in  the  silent  streets,  one  thought  only 
recurred  to  his  muddled  wits :  to  find  his  old  com- 
mander, who  had  been  to  him  so  long  a  prototype 
of  invincible  nerve  and  unfailing  resource.  Happily 
he  had  been  before  to  his  lodgings,  and  knew  the 
way. 

Although  not    literally   "the  worst    inn's  worst 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  207 

room,"  the  former  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States  was  found  in  sufficiently  humble  quarters. 
After  much  pounding  on  the  door  and  shouting, 
Zach  was  at  last  admitted  by  a  half -clothed  person, 
who  objected  in  emphatic  terms  to  having  his  house- 
hold disturbed  at  such  an  unseemly  hour.  Royally 
indifferent  to  his  strictures,  Zach  demanded  to  see 
Colonel  Burr,  and  was  profanely  directed  to  the  top 
of  the  house. 

Blundering  up  the  narrow,  crooked  stairs,  Zach 
knocked  at  the  first  door  he  came  to.  Receiving  no 
answer  after  repeated  summons,  he  lifted  the  latch 
and  flung  open  the  door.  His  tipsy  hardihood  fal- 
tered before  the  spectacle  disclosed. 

At  a  table,  dressed  in  a  faded  wrapper,  sat  Burr, 
an  open  letter  in  one  hand,  in  the  other  a  miniature 
of  a  child,  on  which  his  tearless  eyes  were  fixed  with 
a  look  of  pitiable  anguish.  From  his  face  the  pride, 
the  self-sustaining  force  which  had  held  him  stiffly 
up  against  so  many  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous 
fortune,  all  gone,  he  seemed  like  one  in  a  state  of 
collapse.  Looking  up  and  noting  his  visitor,  he 
stared  at  him  blankly,  but  showed  no  surprise,  and 
uttered  no  greeting. 

Obtusely,  Zach  went  on  and  told  his  errand.  The 
hapless  man  heeded  nothing  of  it.  At  a  loss  what 
next  to  do,  the  intruder  stood  staring  at  the  floor, 
when  Burr,  suddenly  rising,  handed  him  the  letter. 

Despite  the  fact  that  everything  about  him  was 
still  in  a  state  of  unsettled  equilibrium,  by  catching 
here  and  there  a  floating  line  or  phrase,  Zach  made 
out  the  date,  Charlestown,  at  the  top,  the  name, 


208  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

Alston,  at  the  bottom,  and  the  gist  of  the  sad  an- 
nouncement between.  He  remembered,  then ;  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett  had  often  told  him  how  the  bereaved 
man  had  idolized  this  one  grandchild,  Theodosia's 
son. 

"Gone  —  gone  —  gone  —  gone,"  repeated  the 
mourner,  gazing  at  the  miniature;  "all  I  had,  — all 
that  could  reconcile  me  to  this,"  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand  that  pathetically  included  the  whole  sordid, 
grinding  routine  of  his  existence. 

The  visitor  was  sobered.  Rallying  his  wits,  he 
clumsily  expressed  his  sympathy,  and  with  a  mut- 
tered apology  for  his  untimely  intrusion  turned  to 
withdraw. 

Aroused  by  the  movement,  Burr  asked  if  he  had 
any  errand,  whereupon  Zach  repeated  his  story. 

Recalled  to  himself  by  this  practical  appeal,  Burr 
reflected  a  moment,  and  promised  to  be  present  next 
morning  on  the  arraignment  of  the  culprit. 

Zach,  meanwhile,  awaiting  with  anxiety  this  as- 
surance, toyed  with  a  trifle  which  he  had  mechani- 
cally picked  up  from  the  litter  on  the  table.  Un- 
consciously, as  he  talked,  he  had  carried  it  several 
times  to  his  nose.  Rising  now  to  go,  and  noting  the 
lodger's  glittering  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  a  pecu- 
liar expression,  he  threw  the  article  down :  it  was  a 
woman's  glove  perfumed  with  musk. 

Next  morning,  true  to  his  word,  Burr  appeared  in 
court  in  behalf  of  the  unruly  midshipman,  and  by 
dint  of  his  admirable  skill  and  persistence  succeeded 
in  getting  the  young  man  released  upon  bail  in  a  sum 
far  less  than  that  at  first  set  by  the  court.  Zach 


ZACHARY  PUIPS.  209 

stepped  promptly  forward  as  bondsman,  and  depos- 
ited the  amount  required  as  security,  which,  be  it 
said,  the  grateful  culprit  failed  not  to  make  good  to 
his  friend  the  moment  they  reached  Burr's  office. 

"And  now,  sir,"  demanded  the  defendant  of  his 
counsel,  "what  do  you  think  are  the  chances?" 

"The  chances,"  calmly  returned  his  counsel,  "are 
that  you  will  be  sent  to  serve  a  term  in  the  peniten- 
tiary for  assault  and  battery." 

"Is  there  no  way  to  get  out  of  it?  "  grumbled  the 
dismayed  offender. 

"Yes." 

"Eh  — what?" 

"The  amount  of  bail,  thanks  to  your  counsel,  is 
very  small;  divided  between  you  two,  it  would  be 
but  a  bagatelle." 

"Well?  "breathlessly. 

The  two  ingenuous  clients  stood  staring  at  their 
counsel,  who,  returning  them  a  very  significant  look, 
remained  silent. 

"What  do  you  advise  us  to  do?"  demanded  the 
obtuse  pair  in  chorus. 

"Gentlemen,"  answered  their  imperturbable  coun- 
sel, drawing  a  snuff-box  from  his  pocket,  deliber- 
ately taking  a  pinch  of  the  fragrant  dust,  and  dain- 
tily dusting  his  fingers,  "I  —  advise  —  you  —  to  — 
think  —  it  —  over." 

"To  be  sure,"  cried  the  defendant,  suddenly;  "I 
see,  —  I  know.  What  fools  we  are !  "  and  he  whis- 
pered in  Zach's  ear. 

Ardently  the  two  thanked  their  ingenious  adviser, 
and  took  their  leave.  Reaching  the  street,  they 


210  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

found  the  town  ringing  with  the  news  of  another 
great  victory  gained  by  the  Constitution. 

Unable  longer  to  restrain  himself,  Zach  bade 
good-by  to  his  friend,  hurried  around  to  pay  his 
parting  respects  to  Captain  Hull,  and  before  the 
day  was  an  hour  older,  was  on  his  way  to  Boston 
to  rejoin  his  dear  old  frigate. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

ARRIVED  in  Boston,  Zach  found  himself  in  a  low 
and  self -condemnatory  state  of  mind.  He  reflected 
with  abasement  that  his  final  exploits  in  New  York 
were  not  in  line  with  certain  heroic  models  secretly 
nourished  by  him.  How  well  for  hero-worshipers 
that  the  lives  of  their  models  are  not  more  closely 
written!  Floundering  thus  in  a  quagmire  of  dis- 
content, he  looked  askance  upon  all  mankind,  as 
if  sullenly  holding  society  responsible  for  his  own 
backsliding. 

With  regard  to  Boston  he  was  surprised  to  find 
his  feeling  quite  changed.  Aversion  had  given  place 
to  curiosity  and  interest.  This  revolution  of  senti- 
ment had  gone  on  unconsciously,  even-paced,  with 
the  physical  revolution  which  had  brought  the  virile 
look  to  his  bronzed  face,  the  hardened  muscle  to  his 
arm,  the  deepened  tone  to  his  voice,  and  the  down 
to  his  lip.  With  regard  to  his  own  kin,  assuredly 
he  had  no  longer  anything  either  to  fear  or  to  expect. 
Deep  in  his  heart,  indeed,  he  may  have  had  a  feeling 
of  superiority  to  that  household  in  Salutation  Alley, 
with  its  bounded  horizon  and  its  narrow  interests. 

To  whatever  cause  due,  it  was  at  any  rate  with 
a  look  of  resolution  which  betrayed  no  shrinking 
that,  on  the  day  after  his  arrival,  he  set  forth  for 
the  North  End.  Halting  at  Dock  Square,  he  turned 


212  ZACHARY  PUIPS. 

for  a  moment  into  the  old  Brasier  Inn,  where  he 
had  taken  refuge  on  the  day  of  his  flight.  Thence 
pursuing  his  way  by  the  selfsame  route  followed  on 
that  memorable  day,  he  found  himself  at  last  in 
Salutation  Alley.  Alack  for  the  recollections  of 
childhood !  What  a  shabby  little  place  it  had  be- 
come! Everything  had  wofully  dwarfed.  Nature 
itself  had  dwindled;  the  bay  had  narrowed  to  half 
its  former  size;  the  peninsula  had  contracted;  the 
garden  had  squeezed  up  to  a  sorry  little  patch. 
Nothing,  it  seemed,  but  the  boundless  ether  and  the 
inaccessible  sky  remained  unshrunk. 

Filled  with  these  thoughts,  Zach  made  his  way 
to  the  honest  maltster's  door,  —  how  humble  and 
forlorn  it  seemed! 

Pausing  a  moment  on  the  cracked  slate-stone  step, 
he  at  last  sounded  the  knocker.  The  door  was 
opened  by  a  half -grown  girl,  evidently,  from  a  cer- 
tain Dinely  cast  of  features,  one  of  his  step-sisters. 
She  surveyed  him  with  curiosity  not  unmixed  with 
awe,  the  effect,  no  doubt,  of  his  uniform.  He  asked 
for  Mr.  Phips.  The  girl  nodded,  made  way  for 
him  to  enter,  led  the  way  into  the  little  parlor,  and 
incontinently  disappeared. 

Zach  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  about.  Should 
he  trust  old  remembrances  or  present  impressions? 
Mechanically  he  put  up  his  hand  and  touched  the 
ceiling.  Could,  then,  this  dark,  barren,  low-browed 
little  space  be  the  room  which  aforetime  he  had 
held  so  grand,  so  sacred,  so  awful?  There  could  be 
no  mistake.  Faithful  memory  verified  every  paltry 
detail :  the  braided  rag  mats  on  the  painted  floor ; 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  213 

the  stiff  little  sofa  and  four  mahogany  chairs  cov- 
ered with  haircloth;  the  bare,  whitewashed  walls, 
adorned  with  cheap  prints  of  Washingon  and  Jef- 
ferson; the  mended  china  vase  filled  with  dried 
grasses  on  the  narrow  mantelpiece ;  the  framed  sam- 
pler hanging  above,  setting  forth  the  Beatitudes  in 
faded  worsted,  the  handiwork  of  Rebecca  Dinely  at 
the  age  of  eighteen;  the  cold,  bare  little  hearth; 
the  fireplace  filled  with  asparagus-boughs;  the  jeal- 
ously-drawn green  paper  shades,  giving  everything 
within  a  livid  hue ;  all  these  were,  indeed,  the  iden- 
tical objects  of  long  ago,  and  the  old  feeling  of  tres- 
pass stole  over  him  as  he  sat  on  the  hard  little  sofa 
awaiting  the  result  of  his  summons. 

The  distant  slamming  of  a  door  and  the  sharp 
tones  of  a  well-remembered  voice  -made  him  move 
uneasily  in  his  seat.  Presently  a  blundering  step 
was  heard  in  the  passage,  and  directly  the  door 
opened  and  his  father  came  in,  hat  in  hand,  awk- 
wardly smoothing  his  front  locks.  He  had  aged  a 
good  deal,  more  than  Zach  was  prepared  for;  old 
lines  had  deepened  in  his  face;  many  others  had 
been  added,  all  disfiguring  in  that  they  were  the 
script  of  small  thoughts  and  sordid  cares.  Noting 
these  effects  with  only  a  dim  suspicion  of  their 
causes,  Zach  was  perceptibly  shocked.  He  had  re- 
membered his  father  as  a  grave,  quiet  man.  He  was 
disappointed,  perhaps,  to  find  that  the  gravity  in 
him  did  not  stand  for  dignity,  and  that  a  lurking 
gleam  of  shrewdness,  not  to  be  closely  distinguished 
from  cunning,  in  his  small  gray  eyes  was  all  that 
saved  his  face  from  vacuity. 


214  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

The  maltster  stood  awkwardly  near  the  door,  star- 
ing at  his  visitor  without  a  sign  of  recognition. 

"I  guess  you  don't  know  me,"  ventured  Zach. 

"No-o,  I  reckon  I  don't." 

"You  used  to  know  me  pooty  well." 

"Mebbe  I  did,  but  I  don't  seem  ter  remember 
folks  as  I  used  ter." 

"I'm  Zach." 

"What!  Our  Zach?  —  thet  run  away?  Ye 
don't  say ! " 

Whereupon,  without  another  word  of  greeting 
or  welcome,  he  stepped  into  the  passage  and  called 
excitedly,  — 

"Mother!     Mother!" 

A  voice  answered  inarticulately  through  a  closed 
door. 

"Come  here!" 

Then  stepping  back  into  the  parlor,  the  father 
surveyed  his  son  with  curious  eyes,  saying  over  and 
over  again,  — 

"  Wall,  wall,  I  never  did !     It  beats  all !  " 

Mrs.  Phips  came  in,  betraying  a  consciousness  of 
her  toilet  similar  to  that  displayed  by  her  husband, 
fumbling  with  the  ends  of  a  faded  handkerchief 
which  she  had  hurriedly  tied  about  her  neck,  and 
tucking  a  wandering  scolding-lock  behind  her  right 
ear.  Although  Zach  said  not  a  word,  directly  her 
eyes  became  adjusted  to  the  gloom  of  the  place,  she 
recognized  him. 

"So  ye  've  come  back,"  was  her  composed  greet- 
ing. "I  thought  mos'  likely  't  was  you." 

"I  should  never  'a'  know'd  him  in  the  world," 
put  in  Mr.  Phips. 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  215 

"I  should  'a'  know'd  him  fast  enough,"  was  Mrs. 
Becky's  dry  comment. 

"What  ye  got  on?  Is  thet  some  kind  of  a  uni- 
form?" queried  the  elder  Phips. 

Zach  nodded. 

"Ye  ain't  gone  inter  the  army?" 

"No,— navy." 

"Ye  don't  say!" 

"An'  the  best  thingye  could  'a'  done,"  said  Mrs. 
Becky,  seating  herself  on  the  little  sofa  and  leveling 
her  spectacles  for  a  raking  survey  of  her  visitor, 
"  though  they  say  it 's  an  awful  place  for  a  Christian 
to  be  in,  with  their  swearin'  and  drinkin'  and  fight- 
in'.  But  it  takes  all  sorts  o'  folks  to  make  a  world, 
an'  ef  that  kind  is  born,  they  've  got  to  live  some- 
w'eres,  I  s'pose.  At  any  rate,  they  make  'em  toe 
the  mark  there,  so  I  reckon  ye  've  larned  how  to 
mind  better  'n  ye  used  ter." 

Zach  coughed  uneasily,  but  did  not  condescend  to 
answer. 

"What  ship  ye  ben  aboard  on? "demanded  his 
father. 

"  Constitution. " 

"  What  ?    Not  the  one  that  licked  the  Britishers  ?  " 

Zach  nodded. 

The  old  man's  face  flushed  with  pride,  and  he 
regarded  his  son  with  a  look  of  undisguised  admi- 
ration. 

"Was  you  in  the  fight?  "  he  asked,  almost  breath- 
lessly. 

"Yeah." 

The  father  rubbed  his  hands  and  evidently  re- 


216  ZACHART  PHIPS. 

frained  with  difficulty  from  expressing  his  satisfac- 
tion in  a  more  demonstrative  way.  Even  Mrs. 
Becky  was  moved,  as  was  apparent  from  her  next 
remark,  which  betrayed  a  careful  compromise  be- 
tween prejudices. 

"Wall,  ef  ther  's  got  to  be  fightin', —  an'  I  s'pose 
ther  hez,  ez  long  as  Satan  holds  his  own  on  the 
footstool,  —  I'm  glad  ye  beat  'em !  They  've  ben 
a-hectorin'  an'  a-pickin'  on  us,  tell  from  all  't  I  can 
hear  flesh  an'  blood  couldn't  put  up  with  it  no 
longer.  I  hope  they  '11  larn  by  an'  by  to  mind  their 
own  business,  an'  let  us  alone!  " 

"They  got  enough  on  't  once  afore,  you  'd  think," 
put  in  the  old  man  again,  with  a  wag  of  his  head. 

Conscious  of  one  or  two  faces  peeping  in  at  the 
door,  Zach,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject,  asked 
after  the  children. 

"They 're  w-all  enough.  Come  in,  ef  ye  want 
ter,  but  don't  stan'  there  an'  gawp ! "  continued 
Mrs.  Becky,  turning  towards  her  offspring,  who, 
thus  addressed,  withdrew  in  confusion. 

"They're  kind  o'  bashful,"  said  their  father 
apologetically. 

"How  long  you  gon'  to  be  here?"  asked  Mrs. 
Becky,  again  addressing  her  visitor,  whether  with 
the  purpose  of  making  talk,  or  of  putting  to  rest  a 
fluttering  fear  lest  the  prodigal  had  come  home  to 
settle  down  at  the  paternal  hearth. 

"I  dunno." 

"Ahem!" 

If  Mrs.  Becky  had  any  hospitable  intent,  she  could 
not  bring  herself  to  further  it. 


ZACHAKY  PHIPS.  217 

Thereupon  followed  an  awkward  pause,  and  Zach, 
finding  the  conversation  uphill  work,  rose  and  took 
his  cap  from  the  table. 

"What,  you  ain't  a-goin'?  Why  —  er  —  I  — 
we  "  — 

The  worthy  maltster  dared  not  complete  the  sen- 
tence which  trembled  on  his  lip,  but  looked  help- 
lessly at  his  wife,  who  filled  the  pause  with  a  depre- 
cating cough. 

"Yeah,  I  got  a  good  deal  to  do,"  muttered  Zach. 
The  fib  would  have  done  honor  to  a  social  veteran. 

"W-all,  now,  I  got  to  go  down  to  the  malthouse. 
Guess  I  '11  walk  along  o'  ye,"  said  his  father,  with 
a  knowing  wink. 

It  was  an  old  trick.  Often  and  often  in  the  old 
times,  on  occasions  of  discipline,  when  he  dared  not 
interfere,  the  elder  had  flashed  at  the  boy  this  signal 
of  sympathy  and  understanding.  Repeated  now  to 
his  keener  vision,  it  came  with  a  new  significance, 
illuminating  the  whole  past  like  a  flash-light.  It 
gave  him  a  new  thought  with  regard  to  his  father,  a 
thought  that  the  shy,  silent,  long-suffering  man  had 
some  resource  of  consolation  undiscovered,  some  cit- 
adel of  character  and  experience  uninvaded,  some 
secret  unsuspected  and  unshared  by  his  vigilant 
helpmeet. 

Already,  father  and  son  had  reached  the  door, 
when  Mrs.  Becky,  thinking,  perhaps,  it  was  her  last 
opportunity,  and  that  old  offenses  had  been  too 
lightly  condoned,  cleared  her  throat  and  summed  up 
the  past  and  present  in  one  comprehensive  phrase,  — 

"W-all,  for  my  part,  I'm  glad  ye  hain't  turned 


218  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

out  any  wuss.  I  'm  free  to  say  I  did  n't  see  any 
hopes  of  ye.  'T  ain't  no  use  goin'  over  it  now. 
'T  ain't  no  use  sayin'  what  I  think  'bout  your  run- 
nin'  away  an'  never  sendin'  back  no  word  to  say 
you  war  n't  dead.  I  don't  b'lieve  in  thrashin'  over 
old  straw,  anyway.  I  'm  willin'  to  let  bygones  be 
bygones.  I  'm  willin'  to  gin  ye  all  the  chance  ye 
can  git.  Ther  ain't  no  danger  o'  yer  turnin'  out  a 
saint.  I  don't  s'pose  ye  've  ben  inside  a  meetin'- 
house  sence  ye  left  home?  " 

Zach  disregarded  the  interrogation  point,  and  for 
all  his  indignation  could  find  no  rejoinder  to  Mrs. 
Becky's  shaft.  In  the  old  days  she  had  shown  her- 
self possessed  of  an  especial  facidty  for  putting  him 
in  the  wrong,  and  it  was  clear  she  had  not  lost  it. 
Withal,  he  went  forth  from  the  little  cottage  with  a 
baffled  feeling,  with  a  poignant  remembrance  of  his 
old  attitude  of  insubordination,  with  a  sense  of  being 
still  unregenerate.  Glancing  askance  at  his  father, 
as  they  went  down  the  narrow  lane,  he  wondered 
less  at  the  latter's  subdued  and  deprecating  air,  and 
reflected,  perhaps,  that  a  man  put  forever  on  the 
defensive  must  in  time  acquire  the  defendant  look 
and  manner. 

On  the  way,  his  father  in  a  measure  threw  off  his 
constraint,  and  showed  a  natural  feeling  in  his  son's 
return.  He  plied  Zach  with  questions,  evinced  the 
deepest  interest  in  his  story,  and  in  his  turn  poured 
into  his  son's  ear  counter  confidences,  to  the  effect 
that  he  had  a  large  family,  that  it  was  hard  getting 
along,  that  the  business  was  not  what  it  used  to  be 
before  the  General  Court  began  to  interfere  with  it, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  219 

that  he  was  getting  to  be  an  old  man,  that  he  had 
the  asthma,  and  that,  in  fine,  he  was  glad  he  had 
one  son  who  could  take  care  of  himself. 

Preoccupied  with  old  recollections,  Zach  quite 
unheeded  the  little  note  of  adroitness  in  all  this, 
as  he  followed  his  father  up  the  worn  steps  of  the 
malthouse,  through  the  warped  door,  and  in  and 
out  among  the  bins  of  barley,  the  vats  and  brewing 
kettles,  wondering  why  the  peculiar  sour  odor  of 
fermentation  should,  so  much  more  effectively  than 
any  other  sense-association,  bring  back  old  scenes 
and  memories. 

When,  at  last,  it  came  time  to  go,  he  found  it 
unexpectedly  hard  to  say  good-by.  A  true  filial 
feeling  —  the  first  he  had  ever  known  —  sprang  up 
within  him  on  witnessing  his  father's  unmistakable 
emotion.  The  old  man  seemed  to  cling  to  him  as  if 
soon  expecting  to  need  the  support  of  a  younger  and 
stronger  arm.  After  shaking  hands  again  and 
again,  he  fumbled  for  a  long  time  in  his  pocket,  and, 
with  many  signs  of  doubt  and  hesitation,  brought 
forth  at  last  a  greasy  wallet,  and?  drawing  from  it 
a  ten-dollar  note,  pressed  it  upon  his  departing  son. 

Zach' s  eyes  sparkled.  A  sudden  thought  occurred 
to  him. 

"No,  no.  Not  for  me,"  he  cried.  "I  have  more 
money  now  than  I  know  what  to  do  with.  Here, 
you  shall  take  care  of  it  forme!  " and  drawing  forth 
the  remains  of  his  prize-money  in  a  huge  roll  of 
bills,  he  thrust  them  upon  his  astonished  and  de- 
lighted father,  and  hurried  away. 

Next  day,  making  inquiries  about  the  Constitu- 


220  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

tion,  Zach  learned  that  the  now  famous  frigate  was 
indeed  in  harbor,  but  in  such  a  battered  condition, 
after  her  fight  with  the  Java,  as  to  need  a  thorough 
overhauling,  that  this  would  lay  her  up  for  a  long 
time,  and  that,  meanwhile,  many  of  her  crew  were 
shipping  on  board  the  Chesapeake,  a  new  frigate 
just  come  into  port,  and  greatly  in  need  of  men. 
Falling  in  with  some  of  his  old  messmates,  Zach  was 
easily  persuaded  to  follow  suit. 

Going  on  board  the  new  vessel  for  the  first  time, 
he  was  cordially  welcomed,  but  experienced,  never- 
theless, a  distinct  disappointment.  He  could  neither 
account  for  it  nor  reason  it  down.  Captain  Law- 
rence and  Lieutenant  Ludlow,  to  be  sure,  looked 
like  experienced  seamen  and  able  officers,  but  for 
the  crew,  they  were  a  veritable  set  of  landlubbers. 
As  he  noted  their  awkward  movements  and  lack  of 
discipline,  and  realized  that  from  stern  to  forecastle 
there  could  not  be  found  a  spark  of  confidence  or 
enthusiasm,  a  heavy  homesickness  settled  down  upon 
the  new  recruit. 

This  feeling  of  distrust  was  confirmed  by  num- 
berless little  circumstances,  as  the  time  for  sailing 
drew  near,  among  which,  not  to  be  neglected,  was 
the  parting  word  of  his  father. 

"  'Listed  agin,  hev  ye?  Seems  to  me  I  sh'd 
ruther  'a'  stuck  to  the  old  ship.  This  un  may  turn 
out  jest  ez  good,  but  I  dunno.  When  'd  ye  enlist? 
Not  yisterday,  I  hope?  " 

"Yeah." 

"Moses  ah'  Aaron!"  burst  out  the  maltster, — 
an  expletive  only  resorted  to  on  strong  occasions. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  221 

"What's  the  matter?" 

The  old  man  reflected  a  minute,  and  modified  his 
tone. 

"Wall,  ef  it's  done,  it's  done,  an'  th'  ain't  no 
use  cryin'  over  spilt  milk;  but  don't  ever  do  no 
sech  thing  agin  on  Friday!  " 

Noting  the  amused  look  of  his  son,  the  elder  ex- 
plained. 

"I  ain't  a  mite  superstitious,  Zach,  but  ther 's  a 
good  deal  more  in  old  signs  than  folks  think.  I 
don't  ever  set  out  ter  do  any  thin'  pertickler  on  a 
Friday.  It 's  hangman's  day,  an'  thet  ain't  the 
wust  ter  be  said  about  it." 

Although  Zach  did  not  attach  undue  importance 
to  this  paternal  whim,  it  served  to  add  one  more  to 
the  depressing  influences  which  attended  upon  his 
departure. 

Pondering  these  matters,  after  taking  leave  of  his 
father,  he  wandered  around  into  North  Bennet 
Street.  The  afternoon  was  on  the  wane,  and  so  it 
chanced  that,  as  he  approached  the  schoolhouse,  the 
door  opened  and  the  boys  came  rushing  forth  in  a 
riotous  mob. 

But  where  were  the  big  boys  ?  Could  it  be  that 
those  of  his  time  were  no  larger  than  these?  These 
were  but  lispers  and  sucklings. 

As  he  stood  looking  after  the  noisy  rout,  meditat- 
ing this  point,  the  doorway  was  filled  again,  and 
down  the  steps,  like  a  ghost  of  the  past,  came  a 
spare,  old-time  figure,  —  Master  Tileston  himself, 
in  what  seemed  the  self -same  hat  and  wig,  waistcoat 
and  small-clothes,  he  had  worn  so  long  ago. 


222  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Supporting  his  unsteady  footsteps  with  the  once 
formidable  cane,  he  passed  slowly  on,  gazing  blankly 
into  the  face  of  his  former  pupil,  who,  looking  after 
him  with  a  touch  of  pity  and  veneration,  wondered 
how  he  ever  could  have  stood  in  such  dread  of  the 
tottering  old  man. 

Going  on  board  his  new  frigate  an  hour  later,  Zach 
found  the  whole  ship's  company  discussing  a  start- 
ling rumor,  to  wit:  that  the  British  frigate  Shan- 
non, Captain  Philip  Bowes  Vere  Broke,  was  lurking 
outside  the  harbor,  waiting  for  them  to  come  out. 

Directly,  Zach's  blood  was  fired.  Doubt  and 
distrust  vanished  like  fogs  before  the  sun.  Putting 
aside  all  regrets  for  his  old  ship  and  officers,  there 
kindled  within  him  an  ardent  loyalty  for  the  new. 
Caring  nothing  for  ways  and  means,  he  burned  only 
to  rush  to  the  assault  of  the  insolent  stranger. 

The  crew  were  gathered  in  knots  on  the  main 
deck  discussing  the  news,  while  the  officers,  shut 
up  in  the  cabin,  decided  upon  their  course.  Com- 
ing forth,  Captain  Lawrence  was  seen  to  cast  his 
eyes  thoughtfully  over  his  raw  and  undisciplined 
crew.  Whatever  inward  qualms  he  had,  however, 
no  shadow  of  doubt  or  hesitation  crossed  his  resolute 
face,  as  with  firm  step  and  clear  voice  he  gave 
orders  to  hasten  the  preparations  to  get  under  way. 

Remembrances  of  certain  late  experiences  with 
the  Bonne  Citoyenne,  Espiegne,  and  Peacock  may 
well  have  given  him  faith  in  his  star.  Yet,  while 
he  shrank  not  from  the  conflict,  he  well  knew  the 
odds  against  him,  —  knew  that  he  was  to  engage 
one  of  the  stanchest  ships  in  the  British  fleet,  com- 


ZACHARY  PHI  PS.  223 

raanded  by  a  martinet  who  had  drilled  his  men  to 
move  and  fight  like  a  machine. 

Against  every  dictate  of  judgment  and  prudence, 
the  hapless  officer  made  ready  for  the  fray.  No 
alternative  was  left  him.  The  hand  of  fate  was  in 
it.  Though  his  star  of  prestige  hastened  to  a  sure 
eclipse,  he  must  needs  go  on. 

A  rumor  was  spread  that  the  British  captain  had 
sent  in  a  challenge  for  the  Yankee  to  come  out. 
The  town  was  alive  with  excitement.  The  whole 
country-side  was  flocking  to  the  hills  to  see  the  bat- 
tle, and  were  capable,  in  a  frenzy  of  disappoint- 
ment, of  burning  the  Chesapeake  to  the  water's 
edge,  had  her  commander  shown  a  moment's  scru- 
ple in  meeting  the  Britisher. 

So  one  burning  midday,  under  the  cloudless  sky 
of  early  June,  the  Chesapeake  sailed  out  of  the  har- 
bor. Far  away  on  the  misty  horizon  stood  the  wait- 
ing enemy.  It  was  like  a  scene  set  for  a  play :  the 
amphitheatre  of  hills  thronged  with  the  breathless 
populace,  the  actors  entering  from  right  and  left. 
Promptly  they  entered,  and  through  all  the  golden 
afternoon  parried  and  mano3uvred,  like  two  wrestlers 
in  a  ring.  Watchfully  they  approached,  warily 
played  for  position.  At  last  came  the  attack;  with 
foresail  hauled  up  and  ensigns  flying,  the  Chesa- 
peake steered  straight  for  her  antagonist. 

She  found  herself  in  the  clutches  of  a  giant.  The 
conflict  was  short  and  sharp.  The  hills  resounded 
with  the  shock  of  it.  With  the  precision  of  a  ma- 
chine the  Shannon  poured  in  her  deadly  broadsides. 
The  dazed  novices  on  the  Chesapeake  were  mowed 


224  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

down  like  sheep.  The  deck  could  not  be  seen  for 
the  flying  splinters.  The  officers  fought  like  men 
inspired.  Undismayed  upon  the  quarter-deck,  Law- 
rence stood  amidst  the  havoc,  urging  on  his  panic- 
stricken  crew.  His  tall  figure  was  a  tempting  mark, 
—  the  fatal  bullet  came  at  last. 

Zach  stood  near  the  companion-way  on  the  main 
deck,  serving  his  gun,  when  the  stricken  captain  was 
brought  below.  Recognizing  the  uniform,  he  has- 
tened to  lend  a  hand.  The  dying  man  opened  his 
eyes,  gathered  his  strength,  and  gasped  out  five  im- 
mortal words,  — 

"Don't  give  up  the  ship  !  " 

Scarcely  was  the  order  pronounced  when  an  up- 
roar arose  on  the  upper  deck,  a  marine  with  staring 
eyes  came  flying  down  with  the  hoarse  cry  that 
Lieutenant  Ludlow  had  fallen,  Lieutenant  Cox 
had  disappeared,  and  the  enemy  were  boarding. 
Leaving  his  dying  captain,  Lieutenant  Budd  called 
on  the  crew  to  follow  him,  and  rushed  for  the  upper 
deck.  Zach  followed  close  upon  his  heels,  but  for 
the  rest,  hardly  a  dozen  men  heard,  or,  hearing,  re- 
sponded. 

Few  more  appalling  scenes  ever  fell  on  mortal 
sight,  where  amid  the  blinding  smoke,  the  deafening 
din,  the  crashing  splinters,  the  whistling  bullets,  the 
dismantled  guns,  the  torn  and  entangled  rigging, 
destruction  raged  unchecked;  where  lying  in  heaps, 
dismembered,  gory,  the  dead  formed  a  ghastly  ram- 
part, behind  which  the  chaplain,  —  sole  leader  left, 
—  at  the  head  of  a  wavering  body  of  marines,  vainly 
strove  to  withstand  the  invading  horde. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  225 

Into  the  midst  of  this,  stanchly  supporting  his 
lieutenant,  Zach  rushed  undismayed.  For  a  time, 
possessed  by  the  fiend  of  carnage,  they  stood  and 
fought.  Nothing  could  avail  against  overpowering 
odds.  Hacked  by  cutlasses,  riddled  by  balls,  over- 
borne by  the  press  of  numbers,  this  little  forlorn 
hope,  step  by  step,  were  driven  back,  till,  weakened 
by  loss  of  blood,  exhausted  by  incredible  effort,  one 
by  one  they  reeled  and  tottered  down  the  main 
hatchway  upon  the  senseless  form  of  their  comman- 
der, —  the  enemy,  to  complete  his  work,  firing  a 
volley  downward  into  the  weltering  heap. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WITH  his  few  surviving  shipmates  Zach  was  car- 
ried captive  to  Halifax,  where,  between  the  hospital 
and  the  prison,  he  divided  his  time  until  the  end  of 
the  war.  Like  other  things  finite,  the  war,  perhaps 
the  most  futile  ever  waged,  had  an  end, —  an  end, 
be  it  added,  barren  and  unsatisfactory  enough,  for 
not  a  point  had  been  scored.  The  ostensible  issue 
upon  which  it  had  been  waged  remained  unsettled, 
and  American  commerce  was,  as  before,  left  to  the 
impudent  invasion  of  the  British  press-gang.  What 
wonder  that  the  news  of  the  ex  post  facto  victory  of 
New  Orleans  came  like  balm  to  the  smarting  wounds 
of  national  pride,  or  that  the  name  of  Andrew  Jack- 
son was  bruited  to  the  skies! 

Hearing  that  name  on  coming  forth  from  his 
prison  at  Halifax,  Zach,  like  others  of  his  country- 
men, had  good  cause  then  and  afterwards  to  remem- 
ber it.  For  the  present  moment  it  served  chiefly  to 
direct  his  thoughts  to  New  Orleans.  More  than  any 
other  place,  that  city  seemed  to  him  like  home. 
There  his  happiest  hours  had  been  passed;  there 
his  dearest  recollections  centred.  Now,  ships  of  all 
nations  were  flocking  to  the  reopened  port  for  a 
share  of  its  cotton  treasures. 

Whereupon,  concluding  that  there  was  no  present 
hope  of  advancement  in  the  service,  he  duly  ob- 


ZACHABY  PH1PS.  227 

tained  his  discharge,  and,  making  his  way  to  New 
York,  yielded  to  an  inward  yearning,  and  shipped 
on  board  the  first  coaster  bound  to  the  Gulf. 

For  all  his  warlike  experience,  he  was  not  pre- 
pared for  the  havoc  which  had  been  wrought  in  the 
fair  Crescent  City.  He  scarcely  recognized  the 
once  prosperous  town.  Its  individuality  was  lost. 
Everywhere  the  subverting  hand  of  -war  had  been 
heavily  laid.  Throngs  of  soldiers  and  army-follow- 
ers, new  types  of  civilians,  with  long  hair  and  broad- 
brimmed  hats,  venting  strange  oaths  and  disporting 
themselves  with  much  swagger,  filled  the  public 
places.  More  English,  —  if  English  it  could  be 
called,  —  and  less  French,  was  heard  in  the  street- 
talk  ;  and  in  short,  the  old  civilization  seemed  riot  so 
much  replaced,  as  overlaid,  by  one  new  and  incon- 
gruous. 

Wandering  hap-hazard,  Zach  found  himself  in  the 
neighborhood  of  M.  Lescomt's  office,  but  having 
reached  the  door,  hesitated  to  go  in.  Remem- 
brances of  his  last  visit  may  have  stayed  him.  A 
moment's  reflection,  a  glance  down  at  his  trim  dress, 
however.,  decided  the  matter,  and  he  sounded  the 
knocker.  Perhaps  he  was  not  unwilling  that  his 
old  friend  should  see  the  change  which  had  been 
wrought  in  him,  —  a  change  of  which  he  seemed 
well  aware.  He  may  even  have  counted  with  satis- 
faction upon  the  impression  he  was  about  to  make, 
for  his  face  fell,  and  he  was  plainly  taken  aback, 
when  told  that  the  little  attorney  was  absent  from 
home  on  a  visit  to  France. 

Disappointed  in  missing  the  only  friend  he  had 


228  ZACUABY  PHIPS. 

in  the  city,  he  next  made  his  way  out  to  Basswood. 
Long  before  arriving  he  was  filled  with  misgivings, 
for  all  along  the  road  were  strewn  marks  of  the  de- 
structive occupancy  of  the  invading  army.  Not, 
however,  until  he  reached  the  plantation  did  the 
visitor  fully  realize  the  blighting  possibilities  of  war. 
Of  that  once  thriving  demesne,  of  that  peacefid, 
happy  home,  scarcely  a  trace  was  left. 

The  mansion  had  been  burned,  and  some  earth- 
works crowned  the  elevation  where  it  once  stood. 
The  offices,  the  sugar-houses,  even  the  negro  quar- 
ters, had  been  swept  away.  The  fertile  fields  had 
been  laid  waste.  A  litter  of  all  imaginable  mate- 
rial—  rags,  boxes,  camp-utensils,  rusty  weapons, 
heap's  of  straw,  bones,  paper  —  denied  the  once  beau- 
tiful lawn ;  while  of  the  fine  old  trees,  the  few  left 
standing  had  been  hopelessly  mutilated. 

Down  along  the  lake-side  reigned  a  worse  des- 
olation. The  former  tangle  of  vines  and  shrub- 
bery^ which  had  made  the  shore  a  bower,  had  been 
burned,  the  larger  trees  had  been  felled,  and,  to- 
gether with  the  planks  of  the  landing,  had  been  used 
in  making  a  rude  abattis ;  while  worse  than  all,  his 
beloved  little  boat-house  had  been  converted  into  a 
deposit  for  offal. 

Sickened  and  revolted,  he  stood  and  looked  about, 
quite  unable  to  realize  that  this  was  indeed  the  spot 
where  he  had  spent  so  many  happy  and  memorable 
hours. 

He  turned  away  with  a  shudder.  Along  the 
gloomy,  wreck-strewn  road  back  to  the  city,  he  stag- 
gered like  one  in  liquor.  Things  were  not  at  their 


ZACHARY  PUIPS.  229 

best  with  him.  Without  friends,  without  influence, 
without  prospects  visible  or  probable,  the  last  spot 
of  earth  with  which  he  had  an  endearing  association 
transformed  into  a  ghastly  waste,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed the  world  did  not  present  itself  in  alluring 
colors  as  a  place  of  abode. 

Two  meagre  sources  of  comfort  were  left  him: 
one,  the  thought  of  finding  Sandy ;  the  other,  some 
indeterminate  yearnings  vaguely  associated  with  the 
name  "Nassau." 

Withal  he  returned  to  New  Orleans  in  a  rebel- 
lious mood.  Notwithstanding  some  severe  discipline 
in  the  past,  it  was  evident  that  he  had  not  acquired 
a  submissive  attitude  with  regard  to  life.  He  must 
needs  be  kicking  against  the  pricks.  Lacking  other 
confidant,  he  conversed  with  himself,  audibly  and  in 
emphatic  terms. 

Howbeit,  so  far  from  being  inclined  to  mope,  he 
was  in  a  feverish  haste  to  get  away  from  the  vicin- 
ity, and  all  reminder  of  it. 

With  no  call  of  duty  from  any  point  of  the  com- 
pass, that  subtended  chord  of  inclination  before 
noted  determined  the  matter  of  direction.  Allow- 
ing himself  no  time  for  change  of  mind  or  purpose, 
in  two  hours  he  was  upon  the  way.  It  was  the  first 
step  that  cost,  and  he  took  it  blindly. 

Tampa,  the  nearest  point  of  communication  with 
the  Bahamas,  he  reached  like  one  walking  in  his 
sleep,  —  he  never  knew  how.  There  he  had  the 
good  luck  to  catch  a  schooner  just  setting  sail  for 
Nassau.  Idly,  even  then,  he  reflected  upon  the 
oddity  of  her  name,  little  conscious  how  signifi- 


ZACHAEY  PHI  PS. 

cant  it  was  destined  to  prove;   she  was  called  the 
Chance. 

Chance  had  thus  far  been  indeed  a  potent  factor 
in  his  life.  He  pleased  himself  with  the  fancy  of 
being  still  chance-led,  and  would  allow  no  discussion 
of  the  question  "whither?"  and  "wherefore?" 
which  reason,  or  prudence,  or  some  tiresome  inter- 
nal mentor  kept  striving  to  thrust  upon  him. 

In  this  purposeless  state  he  in  due  time  arrived 
at  his  destination.  One  bright  morning,  in  that 
climate  where  the  mornings  are  always  bright,  they 
wound  their  way  in  among  the  coral  reefs,  and  cast 
anchor  in  the  bright  green  waters  of  Nassau's  tiny 
harbor. 

During  the  voyage,  the  solitary  passenger  of  the 
Chance  had  heard  with  profound  indifference  that 
the  little  vessel  belonged  to  a  worthy  Scotch  trader 
—  one  Alexander  Arbuthnot  —  of  Nassau,  who  had 
grown  rich  carrying  on  a  thriving  trade  with  the 
Florida  Indians,  exchanging  the  odds  and  ends  of 
civilization  for  their  peltry,  which  he  shipped  to 
London  at  a  great  profit. 

As  they  tacked  back  and  forth  to  make  the  land- 
ing, Zach  had  leisure  to  study  the  place.  He 
scanned  it  with  interest  while  reviewing  all  he  had 
heard  of  its  history.  What  was  there,  then,  about 
this  bit  of  an  island  which  had  given  it  such  renown  ? 
which  had  caused  it  to  serve  as  a  football,  to  be 
kicked  about  for  a  century  and  more  on  the  historic 
stage?  which  had  made  it  so  long  the  stamping- 
ground  of  smugglers,  the  haunt  of  wreckers,  and  the 
stronghold  of  pirates?  He  was  disappointed  to  find 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  231 

in  its  aspect  nothing  noteworthy,  —  neither  high 
mountains,  deep  valleys,  beetling  cliffs,  nor  spread- 
ing prairies,  to  give  point  to  its  dramatic  story. 
Never,  indeed,  had  he  detected  Nature  in  a  mood 
more  humdrum.  As  for  man's  part  in  it,  the  snug 
little  town  presented  features  no  more  striking  than 
the  open.  Architecturally  it  was  as  commonplace 
as  might  be,  with  only  the  two  forts  to  the  right 
and  left,  and  a  feeble  sprinkling  of  cupolas  and 
steeples  between. 

On  nearer  acquaintance,  as  the  new-comer  soon 
found,  Nassau,  like  many  an  unpretentious  human 
being,  disclosed  a  distinct  charm.  Although,  as  a 
whole,  monotonous  and  unimpressive,  oddly  enough 
its  chief  features,  the  vegetation,  the  buildings,  and 
the  humanity,  were  markedly  picturesque.  Other 
things,  too,  there  were,  to  please  the  fancy  and 
haunt  the  memory :  the  streets  abounding  with  sharp 
shadows,  beyond  which  the  sunshine  lay  white  and 
still  on  the  hard  coral  pavement;  the  high,  cream - 
colored  garden  walls,  which  here  and  there  had 
taken  on  with  time  wondrous  tints  of  olive  and 
bronze ;  the  floral  treasures  within  those  mysterious 
closes,  —  scarlet  poinsettias,  the  deep-red  hibiscus, 
pink  and  white  oleanders,  orange-flowers,  roses  of 
every  hue  gleaming  forth  from  a  dark  background 
of  palmettos,  bananas,  and  cocoanuts,  above  which 
here  and  there  towered  majestically  a  royal  palm, 
suggesting  in  its  stately  grace  a  Moorish  turret  or 
Indian  minaret,  — here  was  a  feast  for  every  sense. 

Bounding  up  at  last  to  the  landing,  Zach  beheld, 
among  the  motley  crew  of  half  -  naked  negroes 


232  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

awaiting  them,  a  remarkable  -  looking  man.  Not- 
withstanding his  snow-white  hair  and  beard,  he  had 
a  noticeable  air  of  vigor,  while  seen  nearer  at  hand, 
his  countenance  proved  impressive  for  its  very  un- 
usual blending  of  shrewdness  and  benevolence. 

Turning  to  take  a  second  look  at  the  stranger 
before  moving  away,  Zach  heard  the  skipper  address 
him  as  Mr.'Arbuthnot. 

At  that  day,  as  now,  Bay  Street,  a  long,  winding 
way,  following  the  sinuosities  of  the  shore,  formed 
the  principal  thoroughfare  of  the  town.  It  was  then 
open  on  one  side  to  the  harbor,  and  here,  in  a  decent 
lodging-house  over  a  shop  facing  the  water,  Zach 
for  a  time  found  quarters. 

Making  no  acquaintances  and  asking  no  questions, 
he  set  about  exploring  the  town  for  himself.  It  was 
not  a  formidable  undertaking,  and  in  two  or  three 
days  he  easily  became  familiar  with  its  chief  streets 
and  buildings. 

Was  this  what  he  had  come  for?  His  curiosity 
satisfied,  was  he  now  ready  to  go  away  ?  Evidently 
not,  for  he  lingered,  on,  —  lingered,  apparently,  to 
no  purpose.  Worse  than  that,  he  was  getting  demor- 
alized. He  dawdled  about  his  lodging-house  from 
morning  till  night,  in  a  limp  state  of  irresolution. 
He  looked,  moreover,  like  a  man  hopelessly  at  odds 
with  himself,  and  thus  incapable  of  positive  or  con- 
sistent action. 

Happily,  it  is  needless  to  conjecture  the  upshot  of 
this  fit  of  moral  prostration,  for  chance  again  stepped 
in  to  his  relief.  Coming  home  one  day  from  a  long 
jaunt  through  Grantstown,  one  of  the  negro  quarters, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  233 

he  was  met  by  the  announcement  that  a  gentleman 
had  been  to  call  upon  him. 

"See,"  continued  his  zealous  landlady,  fishing  a 
crumpled  note  from  her  pocket,  "he  wrote  a  word 
for  ye  upon  this  bit  of  paper !  " 

Unfolding  the  note,  Zach  began  to  read  it  with 
an  air  of  idle  curiosity.  Upon  coming  to  the  sig- 
nature, the  blood  suddenly  surged  over  his  face,  his 
eyes  kindled,  and  turning  back  to  the  beginning  he 
re-read  it  with  a  look  of  great  agitation. 

There  seemed  nothing  in  the  note  to  justify  such 
unusual  interest.  It  contained  at  the  most  a  dozen 
lines,  and  was  to  the  following  effect :  — 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Hearing  by  accident  that  you  are 
lately  arrived  from  New  Orleans,  I  take  the  liberty 
of  calling  upon  you,  as  I  am  very  desirous  of  learn- 
ing something  of  the  state  of  that  town.  You  will 
confer  upon  me  a  great  favor  by  sending  word  when 
I  may  have  an  interview  with  you,  or  by  calling  at 
my  house,  corner  of  East  Hill  and  Parliament  streets, 
any  day  from  ten  to  twelve  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Trusting  soon  to  hear  from  you,  I  am 
Very  respectfully 

Your  obedient  servant, 

STEPHEN  FALCONER. 

A  perfectly  natural  thing  had  happened:  on  an 
island  cut  off  from  regular  communication  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  is  an  event 
which  makes  a  stir  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  in- 
trinsic importance.  Thus,  it  coming  to  the  ears  of 


234  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

the  planter,  then  very  anxious  about  the  welfare  of 
his  possessions  in  that  quarter,  that  a  stranger  had 
arrived  from  New  Orleans,  he  naturally  lost  no  time 
in  hunting  him  up. 

Not  being  island-born,  Zach  doubtless  attached 
undue  importance  to  this  summons,  and  it  is  to  be 
feared  he  went  to  wait  upon  his  old  employer  in  a 
state  of  very  unnecessary  agitation. 

The  house,  quite  the  finest  private  residence  in 
town,  situated  as  described  in  Falconer's  note,  and 
fronting  the  harbor,  had  a  spacious  garden  sloping 
down  to  Shirley  Street,  and  extensive  outlying 
grounds  towards  the  east,  planted  with  oranges, 
lemons,  bananas,  and  cocoanuts.  It  was  a  large 
and  impressive  structure,  built  of  white  coral  lime- 
stone, adorned  in  front  with  four  majestic  Doric  col- 
umns, and  having  wide  verandas  shut  in  by  jalousies 
on  the  eastern  and  southern  sides. 

Passing  through  the  high  stone  gateway,  Zach 
walked  up  the  gravel-path,  and  paused  suddenly  at 
sight  of  a  pony  chaise  drawn  up  before  the  front 
entrance.  Having  assured  himself  by  a  second 
glance  that  it  was  empty,  he  walked  nervously  up 
the  long  flight  of  steps  to  the  front  veranda,  where, 
looking  about  for  some  means  to  announce  himself, 
he  presently  found  a  small  silver  bell  on  a  shelf 
beside  the  door,  which  he  duly  rang.  After  a  dig- 
nified delay,  a  slave  slowly  emerged  from  the  story 
beneath,  stepped  out  upon  the  path,  and  looked  up 
for  an  observation.  After  taking  a  leisurely  and 
thorough  survey  of  the  visitor,  he  reentered  the 
house,  and  in  due  time  appeared  at  the  door. 


ZACHASY  PHIPS.  235 

Having  stated  his  business,  Zach  was  shown  into 
a  large,  cool  room  furnished  as  a  library,  and  left  to 
compose  himself  for  the  coming  interview. 

Five  minutes  passed  before  Falconer  appeared. 
He  had  grown  gray  and  moved  with  less  vigor,  but 
otherwise  was  the  same  assured  and  collected-look- 
ing person  as  before. 

Gravely  regarding  Zach,  who  rose  in  a  little  flut- 
ter to  meet  him,  he  stood  awaiting  an  explanation  of 
the  visit. 

As  much  relieved  as  astonished  to  find  himself 
unrecognized,  Zach  hastened  to  explain. 

"I  got  a  note  from  you "  — 

"Ah,  yes,  you  are  the  gentl — "  with  a  second 
look,  —  "  the  young  man  from  Florida.  Pray  be 
seated.  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  —  take  this 
chair  where  you  can  get  the  breeze,  Mr."  — 

The  visitor  took  the  seat,  but  not  the  hint. 

"I  beg  pardon,  but  I  haven't  your  name." 

"Phips,"  said  Zach,  with  an  awakening  suspicion 
of  his  host's  sincerity. 

"Phips,"  repeated  Falconer,  in  whom  the  name 
seemed  to  stir  no  associations.  "I  was  simply  told 
a  stranger  had  arrived.  It  is  very  good  of  you  to 
call,  Mr.  Phips.  You  are  just  from  the  States,  I 
understand?" 

"About  a  week  ago." 

"And  is  it  true,  then,  that  you  have  lately  been 
to  New  Orleans?" 

"I  left  there  on  the  third  of  the  present  month." 

"So?  indeed?  Friday  week?  You  will  be  in- 
formed, then,  of  the  exact  state  of  affairs  there?" 


286  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

The  visitor  nodded. 

"You  must  know,  Mr.  Phips, —  to  explain  myself 
a  bit, —  I  have,  or  I  may  better  say  had,  considerable 
possessions  in  New  Orleans,  and  I  am  most  curious 
to  learn  —  my  correspondent  there  being  unhappily 
abroad  —  what  state  they  are  in  since  the  war." 

"Everything  is  in  great  disorder  there,"  said 
Zach,  comprehensively. 

"  Oh,  that  of  course.  It  could  hardly  be  other- 
wise. A  city  made  the  very  seat  of  war,  as  you 
may  say.  But  it  is  —  the  town  itself  is  still  intact, 
I  suppose?  " 

"Intact!  "     Zach  repeated  the  word  doubtfully. 

''That  is  to  say,  the  public  buildings  are  not  torn 
down,  the  houses  are  not  burnt,  the  "  — 

"No-o;  the  walls,  the  shell,  as  you  may  say,  is 
left." 

"But  much  damaged?  " 

"Yes." 

"And  changed?" 

"Greatly." 

"Oh,  ay,  of  course;  after  a  war,  what  could  one 
expect?  My  own  property,  however,  is  not  exactly 
in  the  town  itself." 

Zach  regarded  the  speaker  steadily,  but  made  no 
comment. 

"It  is,  or  was,  some  miles  out  in  the  country." 

Falconer  paused,  as  if  for  an  assurance  that  this 
might  prove  a  saving  clause. 

Zach  did  not  speak. 

"In  the  direction  of  the  lake,"  continued  the 
planter,  with  an  inquiring  inflection. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  237 

"Pontcharfcrain?" 

The  planter  nodded. 

"The  thick  of  the  fighting  was  there." 

"Eh?  Do  you  tell  me  so?"  with  a  look  of  con- 
sternation. 

"And  Basswood,"  continued  the  visitor,  vainly 
trying  to  check  the  rising  color  in  his  cheeks. 

"  You  know  it,  then?" 

With  another  suspicious  glance  at  the  speaker, 
Zach  answered  reservedly :  — 

"I  ben  there." 

"Have  you  —  have  you  so?  how  extraordinary! 
—  you  saw  it,  then.  Ah,  my  good  man,  tell  me, 
pray,  what  state  is  it  in?  Tell  me  if  " 

The  speaker  was  interrupted  by  a  quick  step  in 
the  hall,  and  the  next  moment  a  young  woman, 
dressed  in  a  white  gown  and  wearing  a  wide  hat 
trimmed  with  pink  roses,  came  tripping  into  the 
room.  With  a  passing  glance  at  the  stalwart  young 
man  near  the  window,  she  advanced  to  the  planter, 
saying  easily :  — 

"  Excuse  me,  papa,  —  I  did  n't  know  you  were 
engaged.  I  only  came  in  to  say  that  we  shall  eat 
at  Clifton.  'T  is  a  long  drive,  you  know,  and  we 
could  n't  well  get  back;  so  you  will  be  deserted  at 
luncheon "  * 

"Very  good;  quite  right,  my  dear.  I  shall  try  to 
get  on.  Good-by,"  kissing  her,  —  "good-by,  and 
good  luck  to  you!  " 

"Now,  papa  dear,  you  will  not  feel  neglected?  " 

"Oh,  never  a  bit." 

"It  could  n't  well  be  helped;  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  arrangements,  or  " 


238  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"There,  there!  have  done!  Good-by,  and  go  along 
with  you ! " 

"You  are  sure  you  will  not  be  lonesome?  " 

"Quite  the  contrary.  Go,  I  say,  and  good  rid- 
dance ! "  accompanying  her  to  the  door  and  seeing 
her  fairly  out.  "Now,  sir,"  resumed  the  impatient 
man,  turning  again  to  his  visitor,  who  sat  with  eyes 
glowing  like  coals  and  bright  spots  burning  in  either 
cheek,  "pray  go  on!  I  am  all  impatience  to  hear 
your  story! " 

"You  were  asking "  —  said  the  young  man  with  a 
distraught  look. 

"  About  my  plantation  —  Basswood.  You  say  you 
know  it?" 

"Ye-es." 

"Have  you  seen  it  since  the  war?" 

"Eh?" 

"But  you  can  hardly  have  done  that.  I  asked," 
repeated  the  planter,  noting  his  visitor's  wandering 
attention,  "if  you  had  seen  it  since  the  war." 

"I  have." 

"  Ah  —  and  has  it  suffered  ?    What  state  is  it  in  ?  " 

"Ruined!" 

"The  scoundrels  —  the  ruffians!  They  shall  pay 
dear  for  their  mischief!  Who  —  who  did  it,  I 
say? "  « 

"The  British  army." 

"  Eh  —  how  —  why,  ahem !  't  is  incredible !  What 
is  done?  How  is  it  damaged?" 

"The  house  is  burned." 

"  Not  —  er  —  you  don't  mean  entirely  ?  " 

"The  offices,  the  negro-quarters,  destroyed." 


ZACIIARY  PHIPS.  239 

"Destroyed!" 

"The  trees  cut  down." 

"What  do  you  say?" 

"The  plantation  ravaged." 

"The  Vandals!" 

"The  lawn  dug  up,  the  shore  stripped  of  its 
growth,  the  landing  and  boat-house  torn  to  pieces, 
and  the  whole  place  made  a  scene  of  desolation  your 
heart  would  ache  to  look  at." 

"  What  voice  is  that  ?     Who  is  talking  ?  " 

The  questions  came  from  the  veranda,  whence  an 
excited  face  was  thrust  through  the  open  window. 

Zach  started  from  his  seat,  and  tremblingly  awaited 
the  result  of  the  searching  look  fixed  upon  him. 

"You  —  you  were  talking  of  Basswood"  — 

"  Poh,  poh !  my  dear,  —  go  take  your  drive !  We 
are  discussing  a  matter  of  business ;  't  is  not  for  you 
to  hear.'' 

The  intruder  paid  no  heed;  the  face  vanished 
from  the  window  and  reappeared  at  the  door.  With 
eyes  fixed  intently  on  the  bearded  stranger  she  stam- 
mered :  — 

"Excuse  me,  sir,  —  'tis  very  odd  —  hearing  your 
voice,  I  thought  for  a  moment "  — 

"My  dear,"  coldly  interposed  the  planter,  "  you 
are  acting  very  strangely;  this  is  Mr.  Philips,  a 
gentleman  from  the  States,  whom  you  never  saw, 
and"- 

"It  is  —  it  is  —  I  thought  so  —  I  knew  it!  Oh, 
Zach,  how  you  are  changed!  And  that  dreadful 
beard!  How  came  you  here?  Papa,  why  didn't 
you  tell  me?" 


210  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"Eh —  I  —  upon  my  word,  are  you  the  lad  — 
with  the  big  sailor?  I  cannot  believe  it  yet." 

As  for  Zach,  he  stood  all  the  time  clutching  the 
back  of  his  chair,  showing  pale  even  through  his 
sunburn,  and  quite  unable  to  speak. 

"Yes,  yes,"  broke  in  Sylvia,  eagerly. 

"That  went  into  the  navy?  " 

"Why  cannot  you  see  he  is?" 

"Upon  my  word  I  cannot." 

"  I  can  —  I  do.  Sit  down,  Zach !  you  look  more 
natural  every  minute.  Dear  me,  how  exciting !  Do 
tell  us  where  you  have  been !  —  what  you  have  been 
doing !  Did  you  ever  know  anything  so  odd  as  the 
way  we  meet?  Why  didn't  you  speak  to  me  at 
once?" 

"I  — I  thought  "- 

While  Zach  was  stammering  over  his  answer  to 
this  awkward  question,  a  servant  entered  with  a 
note. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  said,  breaking  the  seal  and  has- 
tily reading  it.  "  Was  there  ever  anything  so  pro- 
voking? They  are  waiting  for  me.  I  am  indeed 
very  late ;  there  is  no  help  for  it ;  I  must  really  go, 
but,"  turning  to  her  old  playmate,  "you  will  excuse 
me !  I  shall  see  you  very  soon  again.  Papa  will 
explain  that  this  is  an  imperative  engagement.  He 
will  entertain  you  and  keep  you  to  dine  with  us,  so  I 
will  not  say  good -by,  only  good  morning." 

Making  no  answer,  Zach  stood  staring  at  the  door 
with  the  look  of  one  who  has  seen  a  vision  and 
awaits  its  reappearance. 

Falconer,    meantime,    sensibly   relieved    by   his 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  241 

daughter's  departure,  drew  up  his  chair  and  began 
again  upon  the  subject  of  Basswood. 

Zach,  in  round-eyed  preoccupation,  was  unrespon- 
sive. It  was  only  upon  a  third  and  emphatic  repe- 
tition of  his  remark  that  the  planter  drew  an  answer. 
Thereupon  he  plied  his  absent-minded  guest  with 
questions  bearing  upon  every  detail  of  his  late  visit 
to  the  plantation,  the  while  pacing  the  floor,  revolv- 
ing the  probabilities  of  the  United  States  reimburs- 
ing a  British  alien  absentee  for  damages  done  to  his 
estate  by  an  invading  British  army. 

When  at  last  his  visitor  showed  signs  of  fatigue, 
Falconer  offered  him  wine  and  cigars,  loaded  him 
with  thanks,  and  was  otherwise  appreciative,  but 
omitted  to  say  anything  about  coming  to  dinner. 

Zach  noted  the  omission ;  it  might  or  might  not 
be  significant.  For  him,  at  least,  it  was  sufficiently 
awkward.  To  go  or  not  to  go  was  a  serious  ques- 
tion. Besides,  there  had  been  other  things  in  Fal- 
coner's atmosphere  not  quite  transparent,  and  now 
being  recalled  served  to  complicate  the  problem. 

Returning  to  his  lodgings,  as  the  day  wore  on, 
Zach  suffered  himself  to  become  nervous  over  this 
small  point.  For  the  matter  of  that,  it  was  not  a 
small  point.  It  was  an  important  and  momentous 
point,  and  he  was  amply  justified. 

As  night  drew  on,  he  was  lifted  gently  and  com- 
fortably out  of  the  dilemma:  there  came  a  visiting 
card  with  these  few  lines  written  upon  it :  — • 

"Fearful  that  papa  did  not  tell  you  our  dinner 
hour,  I  write  to  say  that  it  is  six  o'clock.  Papa 
sends  his  compliments." 


242  ZACHAET  PH1PS. 

One  trouble  gone,  another  came  treading  on  its 
heel.  This  invitation,  this  dinner,  was  it  —  did  it 
mean  society? 

That  word  had  been  for  years  a  mystery  and  a 
bugbear,  representing  a  remote  and  beatific  state 
never  well  defined  in  his  mind,  but  potentially  con- 
nected with  the  hereafter. 

For  a  time  he  yielded  to  panic.  He  underwent 
a  sensible  torture.  He  recognized  the  occasion  as 
an  ordeal  differing  only  in  kind  from  the  severest  he 
had  known. 

Resolutely  bent  on  undergoing  it,  he  firmly  made 
a  few  preparations.  He  had  his  hair  cut  and  his 
beard  shaved.  He  bought  some  gloves  and  fanciful 
neck-gear.  He  repolished  his  boots  three  several 
times.  He  well-nigh  brushed  the  nap  off  his  coat, 
and  at  last,  putting  on  his  gloves,  marched  with 
divaricated  fingers  and  a  rigid  air  of  consciousness 
towards  the  Falconer  house.  Almost  arrived,  he 
heard  a  clock  strike  in  a  neighboring  steeple;  he 
was  an  hour  too  early.  Turning,  he  walked  back 
with  precipitation,  trembling  lest  he  had  been  ob- 
served from  the  house.  Thereafter,  to  kill  time,  he 
paced  up  and  down  Shirley  Street,  fancying  that 
everybody  observed  him,  as  indeed  very  many  did. 

At  last,  the  hour  came.  In  a  trepidation  even 
worse  than  that  of  the  day  before,  he  walked  slowly 
up  the  steps  and  rang  the  bell.  Then  drawing  a 
long  breath  and  summoning  every  resource  of  pride 
and  resolution,  he  followed  the  servant  to  the  draw- 
ing-room with  the  expression  of  a  culprit  going  to 
execution. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

Sylvia  and  her  father  were  bending  over  a  book 
on  the  table.  Both  rose,  and  she  came  forward  with 
extended  hand. 

When  quite  near  her  guest  she  paused ;  the  change 
in  his  appearance  evidently  struck  her  anew  and  in 
some  peculiar  way.  Taking  off  his  beard  had,  indeed, 
greatly  improved  his  looks,  and  withal,  despite  a 
certain  clumsiness  of  movement,  despite  his  look  of 
constraint  and  the  mistakes  of  his  ill-assorted  toilet, 
there  was  an  air  of  something  very  like  distinction 
in  his  face. 

Influenced  by  this,  or  some  inscrutable  feminine 
impression,  she  stopped  short  in  the  old  familiar 
greeting  which  rose  to  her  lips,  and  stammered,  — 
a  deep  flush  the  while  overspreading  her  face,  — 

"Mr.  Phips!" 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  MR.  PHIPS!"  This  perhaps  was  required  by 
the  etiquette  of  this  fine  world  he  was  entering. 
But  the  blush,  that  at  least  was  involuntary,  and 
therefore  significant.  Of  what  ?  Here  was  a  prob- 
lem born  of  the  new  and  unknown  conditions  of  the 
new  and  unknown  sphere  he  had  invaded,  —  a  prob- 
lem not  the  last  or  least  of  the  many  he  was  there  to 
encounter. 

But  there  is  no  time  now  for  problems.  Other 
guests  arrive :  Miss  Campbell  and  Mr.  Ambrister 
from  the  Government  House,  the  daughter  and 
nephew  of  his  Excellency  the  Governor  of  the 
Bahamas.  Major  Pengrip  of  the  West  Indian 
Rifles,  with  his  pretty  niece.  Mr.  Wyly,  one  of 
the  foremost  of  the  "Conchs,"  as  the  islanders  are 
irreverently  called  by  Gentiles,  —  and  his  stout 
wife. 

The  appearance  of  these  respectable  persons,  all 
in  more  or  less  fine  attire,  assured  of  manner  and 
intimate  with  each  other,  struck  Zach  with  dismay. 
He  stood  rigid  and  silent.  Not  knowing  what  to 
do,  he  did  nothing.  His  powers  of  speech  failed 
with  his  presence  of  mind.  He  replied  huskily  and 
inconsequently  to  one  or  two  random  remarks  ad- 
dressed to  him  by  the  guests,  as  they  were  presented. 
Thus  he  stood  with  a  dew  of  agitation  on  his  fore- 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  245 

head,  shifting  his  weight  from  one  leg  to  another, 
and  alternately  hiding  behind  him  and  bringing  to 
the  fore  his  gloved  hands,  when  Falconer,  coming 
up,  confidentially  whispered  that  he  was  to  take  out 
Mrs.  Mason. 

"  Take  her  out !  "  Extraordinary  request !  What 
breach  of  decorum  had  the  poor  duenna  been  com- 
mitting! Casting  a  nervous  glance  at  the  uncon- 
scious dowager,  he  wondered  whether  she  would  go 
peaceably,  or  it  would  be  necessary  to  resort  to 
force. 

While  he  was  hesitating,  a  servant  appeared  in 
the  doorway,  mumbled  something,  and  vanished, 
whereupon,  directly,  the  whole  company  began  to 
pair  off.  While  staring  at  this  new  movement,  the 
unhappy  youth  was  mercifully  taken  in  tow  by 
Mrs.  Mason,  who,  all  unconscious  of  her  disgrace, 
passed  her  hand  through  his  arm  and  fell  into  the 
procession. 

Arrived  at  the  dining-room,  he  noted  for  the  first 
time  that  his  dress  was  widely  at  variance  with  that 
of  the  other  men.  If  his  cup  of  misery  failed  yet  of 
full  measure,  here  was  the  brimming  drop. 

Already  dazed  by  the  splendor  of  the  table  and 
the  elaboration  of  the  service,  he  furthermore  found 
the  feast  bristling  with  new  and  distracting  points 
of  etiquette.  For  the  food,  he  bolted  everything 
offered  him,  and  the  servant  had  much  ado  to  keep 
his  glasses  filled.  For  the  talk,  it  was  an  incom- 
prehensible babble  about  persons,  things,  and  sub- 
ject-matters of  which  he  was  profoundly  ignorant. 
Amidst  the  hurly-burly  he  heard  and  remembered  a 


246  Z  AGHAST  PHIPS. 

chance  remark  let  fall  by  Sylvia.  She  was  admir- 
ing a  jewel  worn  by  Miss  Campbell. 

"You  found  it  here?  To  be  sure,  this  is  the 
land  of  the  pink  pearl !  I  am  dying  with  envy  of 
you.  I  dote  on  them,  but  papa  never  gives  me 
jewels." 

Vaguely  conscious,  meantime,  that  Mrs.  Mason 
had  addressed  to  him  several  well-meant  conversa- 
tional overtures  which  he  had  answered  wide  of  the 
mark,  by  incredible  effort  he  collected  his  faculties 
and  made  a  bold  effort  to  set  on  foot  a  conversa- 
tion. 

"You  have  changed  greatly  since  we  parted  at 
Basswood,  ma'am." 

Strange  to  say,  the  good  woman  did  not  reply  to 
this  propitiatory  remark,  but  glared  at  the  speaker 
through  her  eyeglass  in  a  way  that  added  greatly  to 
his  discomfiture. 

At  this  juncture  Sylvia  rose  and  made  a  movement 
to  leave  the  room.  Everybody  seemed  to  follow 
suit.  With  an  undissembled  sigh  of  relief,  Zach 
bounced  up,  and  stumbled  over  two  or  three  silken 
trains  in  his  anxiety  to  keep  side  by  side  with  Mrs. 
Mason.  Only  upon  arriving  at  the  door  he  discov- 
ered that  the  other  men  had  remained  standing  about 
the  table.  Covered  with  confusion,  he  returned  to 
the  fold. 

Withal,  it  is  to  be  feared,  his  wits  here  reached 
the  whirring  point,  for  when  Falconer  presently 
called  upon  him  for  a  description  of  the  devastation 
done  at  New  Orleans,  he  made  such  a  botched, 
jumbled,  and  incoherent  repetition  of  the  succinct 


ZACHAET  PHIPS.  247 

account  he  had  before  given,  that  the  planter  re- 
garded him  with  amazement.  Raising  his  eyes  in 
time  to  catch  this  critical  glance  of  his  host,  Zach, 
to  whom  constraint  had  by  this  reached  the  pitch 
of  torture,  started  up,  and  striding  out  of  the  room, 
left  the  house  without  a  word  of  apology  or  leave- 
taking. 

The  dinner  proved  an  experience  which  was  des- 
tined to  have  far-reaching  results.  Escaped  from 
the  house,  the  exasperated  guest  walked  at  a  furious 
pace  back  to  his  lodgings,  where  he  arrived  covered 
with  dust  and  perspiration,  but  with  a  face  composed 
and  resolute.  He  had  chosen  his  part.  Betimes 
next  morning  he  set  about  playing  it. 

The  first  thing  was  to  write  a  letter  to  Sylvia. 
Any  letter  was  a  task ;  this  one  taxed  to  the  utmost 
his  intellectual  resources.  All  day  long  he  was  in 
the  travail  of  composition,  and  the  next  day  was 
passed  in  correcting  and  transcribing  what  he  had 
written.  A  letter  of  such  moment  must  not  be 
omitted  from  this  record. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  FALCONER,  —  The  first  thing  for 
me  to  do  is  to  make  you  an  apology.  Of  course, 
you  and  your  father  thought  it  strange  for  me  to  run 
out  of  the  house  in  that  way.  I  guess  there  ain't 
any  kind  of  an  apology  that  will  cover  it.  I  can't 
explain  what  made  me  do  it.  You  would  n't  under- 
stand it,  unless  you  was  brought  up  the  way  I  was. 
All  I  can  say  is,  I  had  to  do  it  and  I  am  sorry  for  it. 

The  truth  is,  I  hadn't  any  business  to  be  there; 
it  was  n't  any  place  for  me.  I  don't  belong  to  that 


248  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

kind  of  life,  to  that  kind  of  folks,  and  to  that  kind 
of  doings,  and  J  never  shall. 

I  did  think,  that  as  we  had  grown  up  together, 
and  had  understood  each  other  long  ago,  we  always 
should.  I  was  a  fool,  and  it  is  n't  the  first  time, 
either.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  you  was  all 
the  time  growing  up  in  a  different  world  from  what 
I  was.  I  have  found  it  out  now.  It  would  have 
been  better  if  I  had  found  it  out  before.  You 
called  me  Mr.  Phips ;  perhaps  you  had  to ;  perhaps 
you  meant  it.  It  don't  make  any  difference,  now. 
I  'm  sorry  I  mortified  you  that  way  before  your 
company.  I  shall  never  do  it  again.  Good-by. 
Your  friend,  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Having  dispatched  this  letter,  the  writer,  in 
further  pursuance  of  his  purpose,  posted  down  to 
the  landing  to  learn  what  prospect  there  was  of  soon 
getting  away  from  the  island.  He  was  told  that  the 
Chance  was  very  nearly  loaded,  and  was  directed  to 
her  owner  for  further  particulars. 

Proceeding  to  a  small  office  at  the  head  of  the 
wharf,  he  found  the  venerable  Scotchman  deep  in 
conference  with  a  young  man,  who  sat  with  his  back 
to  the  door. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Arbuthnot?  " 
"Ay,  at  your  service." 
"When  is  your  boat  going  to  sail?  " 
"To-morrow,  at  the  crack  o'  dawn,  we  're  awa." 
"Got  room  for  any  more  passengers?  " 
"That  we  hae,  an'  to  spare,  sin  ther 's  ony  twa 
bookit." 


ZACIIARY  PIIIPS.  249 

"Well,  I  'm  thinkin'  of  goin'  with  you." 

"Awell,  gin  I  say  it  my  ain  sel,  ye  mouglit  gae 
further  an'  fare  waur." 

At  this  point,  the  young  man  turning  about,  Zach 
recognized  in  him  one  of  the  guests  at  the  dinner- 
party, and  was  about  to  retreat  with  precipitation, 
when  he  was  hailed  by  the  stranger. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Phips,  Mr.  Phips;  you  don't  remem- 
ber me,  I  see.  Mr.  Ambrister!  " 

Zach  bowed  and  turned  crimson. 

"You  came  out  all  right,  then.  Gad!  We  were 
for  sending  a  doctor  after  you,  the  other  night.  I 
was  asking  about  you  this  afternoon.  The  Fal- 
coners were  up  at  Government  House.  Miss 
Sylvia  is  a  bit  anxious,  I  think.  'T  was  nothing 
serious,  I  hope.  You  find  yourself  quite  well  again, 
then?" 

"I  —  er  —  quite.     I  'm  obliged  to  you." 

"And  so  you  are  going  to  the  States  with  Fal- 
coner?" 

"With  Falconer?" 

"Eh?  Did  n't  you  know?  He  goes  to-morrow. 
'T  is  he  and  his  man  are  the  two  other  passengers." 

"  Oh-h  —  er  —  I  had  n't  heard  —  I  'm  not  quite 
sure  of  going  myself." 

"Ah,  then,  since  you  're  not  of  his  party,  you  'd 
far  better  wait  for  the  next  trip,  and  go  with  Arbuth- 
not  and  me." 

Whether  conciliated  by  this  cordial  young  man, 
or  influenced  by  some  other  consideration,  Zach 
caught  at  the  straw. 

"How  long  before  the  next  trip?  " 


250  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

"A  week,  more  or  less,"  with  a  look  at  Arbuth- 
not. 

The  Scotchman  nodded. 

"What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Phips?" 

"I  will  think  over  it.  I  will  let  you  know  in  the 
morning,"  answered  Zach  evasively,  making  his 
escape. 

Next  morning,  early,  Zach  went  down  to  make 
known  his  decision.  He  was  told  that  Arbuthnot 
was  on  the  dock.  Going  thither,  he  found  a  crowd 
collected  to  see  the  schooner  sail.  He  hailed  the 
Scotchman  and  told  him  he  had  decided  to  wait 
until  the  next  trip.  That  busy  person  scarcely 
heeded  him.  Turning  to  come  away,  he  cast  a 
glance  towards  the  crowded  deck  of  the  vessel.  He 
saw  there  the  planter  engaged  in  close  conversation 
with  a  stout,  red-faced  man,  who  was  further  distin- 
guished with  regard  to  his  personal  appearance  by  a 
bluish  wen  on  his  nose,  by  a  loud  voice,  and  an 
over-ingratiating  manner. 

A  minute's  observation  of  Falconer's  air  of  au- 
thority, and  the  other's  fawning  manner,  disclosed 
the  relations  between  the  two.  In  the  midst  of  his 
final  directions  the  planter  was  interrupted  by  the 
signal  to  sail,  and  as  the  stout  man  stepped  ashore 
Zach  heard  his  employer  address  him  as  Woodbine. 

Vague  associations  connected  with  that  name, 
—  associations  too  vague  to  be  recalled,  —  haunted 
Zach  all  the  way  back  to  his  lodgings. 

There  a  new  direction  was  given  to  his  thoughts 
by  finding  an  answer  to  his  letter.  It  was  short 
and  simple,  but  very  disturbing. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  251 

MY  DEAR  MR.  PHIPS,  —  I  fear  from  your  note 
that  you  are  making  far  too  much  of  a  very  small 
matter.  We  of  course  understood  that  you  were 
ill,  or  otherwise  indisposed,  and  attached  no  impor- 
tance to  your  abrupt  departure  from  our  house. 
There  are  so  many  exigencies  in  life  before  which 
etiquette  must  give  way,  that  the  matter  is  scarcely 
worth  alluding  to. 

I  am,  however,  truly  grieved  that  you  were  so 
unhappy  at  our  little  party,  and  to  see  that  you  are 
inclined  to  draw  hasty  and  rash  conclusions  from 
your  discomfort.  I  trust  you  will  not  let  so  slight  a 
cause  influence  seriously  laid  plans  of  life  or  impair 
your  esteem  for  certain  old  and  faithful  friends, 
among  whom  I  hope  you  count 

Your  obedient  servant, 

SYLVIA  FALCONER. 

The  quietness  of  tone  and  the  excellent  common- 
sense  of  this  note  were  impressive.  Zach  remem- 
bered with  mortification  the  heroics  of  his  own,  in 
comparison.  He  was  a  good  deal  surprised  to  find 
his  old  playmate  displaying  such  maturity  of  intelli- 
gence. There  was  something  else  in  the  note  not 
expressed  in  words,  but  as  it  seemed,  lurking  be- 
tween the  lines,  — something  which  delighted  while 
it  disturbed  him.  He  was  not  clear  how  much  sig- 
nifiance  he  was  justified  in  attaching  to  it. 

Much  or  little,  it  afforded  abundant  food  for  re- 
flection, and  so,  wherever  he  went  in  the  few  days 
of  idleness  which  intervened  before  his  departure, 
he  was  busy  with  the  problem. 


252  ZACHABT  pmps. 

One  excursion  was  to  the  famous  sea-gardens,  the 
special  show-place  of  the  islands.  Sailing  a  couple 
of  miles  up  the  harbor,  they  anchored  in  a  little 
channel  between  two  islands,  and  taking  to  row- 
boats,  paddled  about,  looking  through  sea-glasses  at 
the  wonders  outspread  beneath  them:  corals,  sea- 
fans,  sponges,  curious  fishes,  brilliant  with  every 
color  of  the  rainbow,  and  all  sharply  defined  and  set 
off  by  the  clear  white  sand  of  the  bottom. 

Absorbed  in  the  study  of  these  marvels,  Zach  had 
not  noted  the  arrival  of  another  party  until  he  was 
aroused  by  a  well-known  voice,  close  at  hand,  cry- 
ing out  in  tones  of  enthusiastic  delight. 

Looking  up,  he  recognized  a  party  from  Govern- 
ment House,  dispersed  in  several  row-boats  about 
him.  In  one,  Miss  Campbell  and  the  private  sec- 
retary; in  another,  nearer  at  hand,  Sylvia  and 
Ambrister. 

The  polite  young  Englishman  was  leaning  over 
the  rail  helping  his  companion  adjust  the  clumsy 
glass.  Thus  engaged,  with  heads  together,  ab- 
sorbed in  the  unusual  spectacle,  they  made  a  strik- 
ing picture,  —  a  picture,  however,  which  proved  not 
altogether  pleasing  to  one  beholder,  who  savagely 
bade  his  boatman  row  as  fast  as  possible  from  the 
spot. 

Crouched  in  the  bow  of  his  sail-boat,  the  same 
personage  sulked  all  the  way  home,  chewing  his  cud 
of  bitter-sweet,  all  unconscious  of  some  very  splen- 
did sunset  effects  in  sky  and  water. 

Passing  Fort  Montague,  cold  and  gray,  on  the 
left,  and  skirting  the  wreck-strewn  shore  of  Hog 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  253 

Island  on  the  right,  they  tacked  in  and  out  among 
the  little  keys,  on  one  of  which  the  ruins  of  the 
pirate  fort,  once  the  stronghold  of  the  notorious 
Black  Beard,  was  outlined  with  the  incisive  sharp- 
ness of  an  etching  against  the  golden  light-flood 
beyond. 

Arrived  at  the  landing,  Zach  roamed  along  the 
docks  until  he  came  to  a  retired  spot,  where,  sitting 
down  upon  the  sea-wall,  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  gave 
way  to  his  thoughts. 

Aroused  presently  by  a  mumbling  at  his  side,  he 
looked  around  and  saw  an  old  negro  boatman,  who 
was  unfolding  something  from  a  dirty  rag  which  he 
had  pulled  from  his  pocket. 

"Go  away!  "  said  Zach. 

"Mass'r,  look  a-dar! " 

"Get  along  with  you,  I  say!  " 

"Dat  ar  's  a  shiner,  dat  is!  Mass'r  nebber  see 
a  pink  pearl  like  dat,,  he  did  n't !  " 

"What  do  you  say?" 

"Look  fo'  yo'sef!  Fo'  Gawd,  yo  nebber  see 
nuffin  like  dat!" 

Extending  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  he  displayed  a 
large  jewel  of  a  delicate  rose  color. 

"Pink  pearl!     How  do  you  know  it  is?" 

"Know  it,  sho';  cotch  conchs  all  my  life,  but 
nebber  see  no  sech  one  afore." 

"Humph!"  looking  at  the  gem  indifferently, 
"take  it  away!" 

"Better  buy  it,  Mass'r;  git  it  mos'  fo'  nuffin." 

A  thought  shot  through  Zach's  brain.  Directly, 
he  straightened  up  and  began  to  chaffer.  The  price 


254  ZACHABY  PHIP8. 

demanded,  although  paltry  compared  with  the  value 
of  the  gem,  was  yet  beyond  his  means. 

The  negro,  noting  the  purchaser's  sudden  inter- 
est, held  stiffly  to  his  price. 

Presently,  getting  impatient,  Zach  drew  from  his 
pocket  his  whole  store  of  money,  and  extending  it 
to  the  man,  bawled  out :  — 

"That 's  all  the  money  I  got,  you  black  devil. 
Now  take  it,  or  leave  it!  " 

The  negro  hesitated;  the  improbability  of  rind- 
ing another  purchaser  weighed  heavily  in  the  bal- 
ance. The  bargain  was  struck.  Handing  over 
the  pearl,  the  seller  picked  up  the  money  and  dis- 
appeared. 

Next  day,  Zach  got  up  with  a  preoccupied  look. 
It  was  not  without  a  serious  intent,  moreover,  that 
he  spent  several  hours  in  the  uncongenial  task  of 
making  a  toilet.  As  soon  as  he  was  ready  to  sally 
forth,  however,  his  energy  and  purpose  appeared  to 
fail.  He  dragged  along  the  sultry  streets,  as  it 
seemed  without  end  or  aim.  In  this  irresolute  mood, 
coming  to  the  corner  of  Bay  and  Parliament  streets, 
he  checked  his  pace  and  purposely  loitered.  Pass- 
ing between  the  Government  buildings,  he  paused 
to  study  the  contorted  roots  of  the  great  silk-cotton 
tree,  which  have  a  grotesque  resemblance  to  two  ele- 
phants in  deadly  struggle.  Lingering  a  moment  at 
the  well,  where  sat  a  couple  of  ragged  young  ne- 
groes, chewing  sugar-cane,  he  presently  sauntered 
along  the  avenue  of  young  Spanish  laurels  leading 
to  the  little  octagonal  jail,  since  transformed  into  a 
library.  There  he  paused  for  several  minutes,  peer- 


ZACHAEY  PIIIPS.  255 

ing  curiously  through  the  grated  door  at  the  sleepy 
black  sentinel  on  guard.  Here,  aroused  by  the  sud- 
den clatter  of  horses'  hoofs,  he  looked  around,  and 
saw  a  horseman  coming  down  Parliament  Street. 
With  intent  looks  he  watched  him  turn  the  corner 
of  Shirley  Street,  and  go  cantering  away  towards  the 
barracks.  It  was  Ambrister. 

Straightway,  the  irresolution  faded  from  the  be- 
holder's face.  He  walked  briskly  up  the  hill, 
passed  through  the  well-known  gate,  mounted  the 
steps,  and  rang  the  bell. 

Sylvia  was  at  home.  One  might  almost  have 
thought  she  expected  her  visitor,  for  upon  his  ap- 
pearance an  evanescent  little  flush  burned  in  her 
cheeks,  and  for  a  whole  minute  she  stammered  over 
her  greeting.  She  struggled,  moreover,  with  a  very 
evident  constraint  in  putting  the  interview  on  an 
easy  footing.  If  the  truth  must  be  told,  she  did  not 
succeed  after  all.  It  more  and  more  plainly  ap- 
peared that  the  interview  was  not  to  be  put  on  an 
easy  footing,  chiefly  on  account  of  the  demeanor  of 
her  guest,  who,  it  must  be  confessed,  behaved  in  a 
very  disconcerting  manner.  Staring  straight  into 
her  eyes  with  a  sombre  intensity,  he  neither  spoke 
nor  made  any  offer  to  speak.  Worse  again,  he  did 
not  answer  to  leads  in  the  conversation. 

He  sat  and  gazed,  as  though  intent  upon  reading 
her  unexpressed  thought,  too  absorbed  in  the  busi- 
ness the  while  to  suffer  a  moment's  distraction. 

Unable  to  sustain  this  ordeal,  she  resorted  to  va- 
rious feminine  devices  to  create  a  diversion.  She 
rose  and  fluttered  about  the  room,  made  inconse- 


256  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

quent  remarks  upon  the  weather  and  the  view, 
brought  books  and  pictures  to  be  examined.  Upon 
divers  of  these  points,  thus  violently  introduced,  she 
affected  to  take  the  advice  of  Mrs.  Mason,  sitting 
in  an  adjoining  room. 

The  visitor  awaited  his  turn,  —  waited  gravely  and 
patiently,  until,  tired  of  hovering  about,  she  settled 
down  again  in  her  chair. 

Still  he  did  not  speak,  whereupon  she,  as  if  feel- 
ing the  paralysis  of  constraint  weighing  down  also 
upon  her,  burst  forth  with  a  noisy  affectation  of  her 
old  waywardness.  Unwarned  by  the  hysterical  note 
in  this  forced  effort,  and  unsuspecting  its  purpose, 
the  visitor  received  it  with  a  stare  of  surprise. 
Whereupon,  to  his  amazement,  she  burst  into  a  fit 
of  weeping. 

Rising  instantly  with  a  look  of  concern,  he  hur- 
ried to  her.  She,  quickly  rallying  to  the  defense 
of  her  compromised  dignity,  repulsed  him  with  a 
gesture  of  resentment,  and  hurried  from  the  room. 

Greatly  astonished  by  this  move,  Zach  stood  gaz- 
ing after  the  retreating  girl.  Passing  in  severe 
review  his  own  words  and  acts,  —  so  few,  so  re- 
strained, so  non-committal,  —  it  was  clear  that  he  at 
least  was  in  no  wise  accountable  for  it.  Doubtless 
it  was  only  one  of  those  periodic  and  inexplicable 
outbursts  peculiar  to  the  sex,  with  which  he  was 
not  familiar. 

Hardly  had  he  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  when 
Sylvia  returned,  furtively  wiping  her  eyes,  and  in  a 
measure  composed. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  said;  "perhaps  you  didn't 
mean  anything  by  it  after  all." 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  257 

"By  it?    I!" 

"1  dare  say,  too,  that  I  am  a  little  unsettled  by 
papa's  going.  'T  is  the  first  time,  you  must  know, 
that  he  ever  left  me,  —  the  very  first ;  and  it  was  a 
great  mistake  for  me  to  stay  behind.  I  see  it  now. 
I  feel  it  every  minute.  A  very  great  and  sad  mis- 
take !  Yet,  after  all,  perhaps  't  is  better,  —  it  must 
be  a  great  deal  better  for  me  to  outgrow  my  baby- 
hood. 'T  is  absurd  to  act  and  feel  like  a  baby 
when  you  are  really  a  woman,  —  a  woman  grown. 
Dear  me !  How  frightful  to  think  of  it.  It  means 
such  crushing  responsibilities.  Oh-h-h,  I  wish  I 
had  always  remained  a  child!  I  wish  I  could  go 
back  again,  not  too  far,  but  just  a  very  little  way  to 
the  dear  old  days,  —  to  the  careless,  happy  days,  — 
to  the  glad,  joyous  days,  when  —  For  mercy  and 
pity's  sake,  sit  down  in  your  chair,  and  don't  stand 
staring  there  at  me  another  minute,  or  I  will  go 
straight  and  bring  in  Mason!  " 

Astonished  by  this  outburst  of  volubilitj^,  and 
recalled  to  himself  by  the  sharp  personal  criticism 
with  which  it  concluded,  Zach  meekly  resumed  his 
seat  without  a  word.  Meanwhile  Sylvia  had  time 
to  recover  her  breath,  and  in  some  degree  her  self- 
control. 

"And  you,"  she  resumed  in  a  much  quieter  tone, 
"I  hope  you  are  quite  well,  again?  " 

Reminded  by  this  question  of  his  last  social  expe- 
rience in  the  house,  he  answered  bluntly,  — • 

"I  have  n't  been  sick." 

"But  they  said,  —  I  was  told "  — 

"  Other  folks  can  think  what  they  like,  but  you 
need  n't  believe  any  such  story." 


258  ZACHARY  PHIP8. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  —  let  us  not  talk  of  it !  'T  is 
of  no  consequence." 

".It  is  of  consequence.  I  told  you  what  was  the 
matter  with  me.  I  was  like  a  fish  out  of  water.  I 
was  not  in  my  own  element.  I  could  not  breathe  in 
that  air,  and  so  I  ran  away." 

"I  should  have  done  just  the  same  myself." 

"No,  you  would  n't." 

"Excuse  me!" 

"You  have  learned  how  to  act  in  company,  and 
you  would  have  acted  right,  and  there  is  just  where 
the  difference  is  between  us,  and  where  it  always 
will  be!" 

"So  I  dare  say  it  will,  if  you  have  made  up  your 
mind  to  it  and  persist  in  repeating  it  as  a  rule  of 
conduct." 

Zach  listened  open-eyed  to  this  criticism ;  its  pith 
and  keenness  so  recalled  the  cool  maturity  of  the 
letter.  Following  hard  upon  the  late  burst  of  child- 
ishness, it  proved  bewildering.  Revolving  all  this, 
he  yet  obstinately  repeated,  — 

"It  's  there,  I  tell  you;  it  's  none  of  my  puttin' 
or  fixin',  and  there  's  no  use  my  try  in'  to  do  away 
with  it." 

However  dogmatically  this  was  said,  he  waited 
in  evident  concern  for  her  answer.  She  hesitated, 
conscious  that  he  was  studying  her  averted  face,  and 
as  if  to  give  point  to  her  words. 

"That  's  a  question  for  you  to  decide." 

"It  is,  and  I  have  decided  it,"  he  answered 
promptly.  Then,  disappointed  at  receiving  no  re- 
joinder, he  went  on  in  a  deprecating  way.  "That 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  259 

bein'  the  case,  you  wonder  what  I  'm  doin'  here. 
Well,  I  don't  know  myself.  I  said  I  should  n't 
come  again,  but " 

She  averted  still  further  her  averted  eyes. 

"But  you  made  me  out  such  a  fool  in  your  let- 
ter"— 

Straightening  up  suddenly,  with  a  touch  of  her 
old  childish  imperativeness,  she  cried,  — 

"Stop!" 

The  visitor's  face  brightened.  Here  was  a  re- 
turn of  the  old  enchantment.  Willingly  enough  he 
yielded  to  the  spell. 

"You  may  say  as  many  silly  things  about  yourself 
as  you  choose,  but  I  shall  not  allow  you  to  pervert 
what  I  say." 

"Did  you  not"  — 

She  put  up  a  small,  silencing  hand. 

"/am  talking  now.     You  have  had  your  turn." 

His  evident  delight  in  being  thus  bullied  would 
have  made  capital  by -play  on  the  stage. 

"What  I  said  in  that  letter,"  she  went  on  with 
her  pinchbeck  dogmatism,  "or  rather  what  I  meant 
to  say,  was  that  you  have  conjured  up  out  of  your 
own  disordered  imagination  a  very  dreadful  bugbear, 
which  you  will  go  on  scaring  yourself  with  to  the  end 
of  time,  until  somebody  steps  forward  to  show  't  is 
nothing  but  a  'thing  of  shreds  and  patches.' ' 

He  cast  an  uneasy  glance  at  her,  as  if  half  sus- 
pecting what  she  said  might  be  true. 

"But  you  will  never  see  this,  you  will  never  ac- 
knowledge the  truth  of  what  I  say,  until  your  eyes 
are  opened." 


2GO  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"What  will  ever  open  them?  "  he  asked,  half  sul- 
lenly. 

"Your  own  success." 

The  terseness  of  this  answer  struck  him  like  the 
breath  from  an  oracle.  Half  in  awe,  half  in  admi- 
ration, he  recognized  the  acumen  so  suddenly  de- 
veloped in  the  alert  little  creature  who  used  years 
ago  to  look  up  to  him  as  a  mentor.  Now,  whether 
really  in  doubt  or  whether  with  the  purpose  of  keep- 
ing her  talking,  he  said,  — 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"I  mean,  learn  to  do  something  in  life  —  no 
matter  what  —  better  than  anybody  else,  and  your 
fortune  is  made.  Down  will  go  all  barriers  and 
open  will  fly  all  doors  at  your  approach." 

A  little  stirring  of  the  blood,  it  might  have  been 
from  shame,  showed  in  the  listener's  face,  and  he 
gazed  spell-bound  at  this  young  sibyl.  She,  finding 
the  pause  which  ensued  awkward,  suddenly  changed 
the  subject  by  asking,  — 

"Do  you  purpose  staying  long  in  Nassau?" 

" I  am  going  right  away,"  rising  with  sudden 
energy,  as  if  recalled  to  himself  by  her  question. 

"Directly?" 

"Yes,  to-morrow  morning.  I  am  come  now  to 
say  good- by." 

"Why — I  —  you  —  is  it  not  very  sudden?"  she 
stammered,  not  without  a  little  flush. 

" I  have  brought  you  a  keepsake,"  he  continued, 
noting  her  manner,  while  clumsily  drawing  a  small 
box  from  his  pocket.  • 

"Oh!"  taking  it  with  a  pleased  look.  "Thank 
you  very  much !  " 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  .     261 

She  lifted  the  lid,  and  directly  a  look  of  constraint 
appeared  in  her  face.  Reflecting  for  a  moment,  she 
handed  back  the  box,  saying,  — 

"No,  no;   I  cannot  take  it!  " 

The  giver  looked  at  her  as  if  not  understanding. 

"This  is  a  thing  of  great  value.  I  have  never 
received  such  a  gift  from  —  er  —  I  thought  it 
might  be  a  flower,  or  shell,  or  something  which  I 
might  —  But  I  —  er  —  I  cannot  take  this." 

With  eyes  bent  in  stern  suspicious  scrutiny  upon 
the  agitated  face  before  him,  Zach  stood  for  a 
moment  holding  the  box  in  his  extended  palm  as  if 
to  afford  her  a  chance  to  repent.  Then  emptying 
the  jewel  into  his  hollowed  hand,  he  threw  it  out  of 
the  window,  and  stalked  without  a  word  from  the 
room. 

Down  to  the  water  side  and  on  past  the  barracks, 
the  water  battery,  and  the  Tea-House,  counting  not 
his  steps,  and  mindless  of  his  course,  he  followed 
the  westward  road  until  he  had  left  the  town  far 
behind. 

One  hour,  two,  three,  followed  in  unnoted  succes- 
sion, and  still  he  kept  on  the  hard  white  road  which, 
shut  in  on  either  hand  by  the  dark  masses  of  the 
wild-grape  tree,  showed  like  a  broad  gray  ribbon 
strung  carelessly  through  the  seaside  copses. 

Meantime  night  had  fallen, —  a  lowering  night, 
—  while  a  northwest  wind  drove  the  breakers  on  the 
rocks  with  a  continuous  roar.  His  first  vigor  abated, 
the  agitated  young  man  proceeded  at  a  more  mod- 
erate pace.  Arrived  at  a  point  far  from  any  human 
habitation,  his  attention  was  presently  attracted  by 


2G2  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

a  light  on  the  shore,  a  long  distance  ahead  of  him. 
It  appeared  and  disappeared  at  intervals,  as  he  ap- 
proached, until  when  he  arrived  within  convenient 
distance  for  investigation,  it  suddenly  crossed  the 
road  and  sank  from  sight  amongst  the  shrubbery  on 
the  left. 

Approaching  the  spot,  he  looked  with  passing  curi- 
osity at  the  place.  The  mystery  of  it  proved  a  dis- 
traction. Everything  was  dark  and  still.  He  tried 
to  persuade  himself  that  it  was  a  hallucination, 
when,  close  at  hand,  there  was  heard  a  confused 
and  indistinct  sound,  —  a  sound  like  the  murmur 
of  human  voices.  Presently  it  came  nearer.  Di- 
rectly, a  faint  light  appeared  among  the  bushes, 
flickered,  grew  stronger,  then  vanished.  At  the 
same  moment  two  or  three  dark  figures  emerged 
from  the  dense  blackness  of  the  thicket,  and  cross- 
ing the  road  only  a  few  paces  from  where  he  stood, 
disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  beach. 

Thoroughly  aroused  and  interested,  Zach  softly 
approached  the  spot  in  the  bushes  whence  they  had 
emerged.  He  found,  to  his  surprise,  a  hole  in  the 
ground  large  enough  to  admit  a  man's  body,  from 
which  a  faint  light  issued.  Crouching,  he  crept  in, 
and  found  himself  at  the  entrance  to  a  large  cave. 
He  stopped  in  time.  The  cave  was  already  occu- 
pied. 

A  fire  at  the  lower  end  disclosed  its  extent  and  its 
occupants.  Ranged  about  the  glowing  coals  were 
a  half  dozen  men,  squatting  or  lying  on  the  ground, 
all  save  one,  who  seemed  to  be  haranguing  his  fel- 
lows. 


^ZACHABY  PHIPS.  2G3 

Sure  that  he  had  heard  the  voice  before,  Zach 
strove  through  the  gloom  to  make  out  the  speaker's 
features,  but  without  success.  Failing  to  see,  he 
listened  the  more  intently. 

"Poh,  poh!  'T  is  but  a  few  weeks'  delay.  The 
goods  are  not  perishable.  The  market  is  sure.  A 
carpenter's  adze  will  blot  out  all  marks  and  shipping 
labels.  Store  'em  for  a  month,  and  then  run  'em 
into  Santiago.  Sure  profit.  No  risk.  A  pretty 
penny  to  divide,  eh?  " 

As  he  finished,  the  speaker  leaned  forward  to 
kindle  his  pipe.  The  light  fell  full  upon  his  face. 
The  eavesdropper  suppressed  an  exclamation;  he 
recognized  without  difficulty  the  man  with  the  wen 
whom  he  had  seen  talking  to  Falconer. 

"How  many  more  loads?  " 

"Not  more  than  five." 

"Twice  that?" 

"Ask  Joe.     He  '11  be  back  in  a  minute." 

Taking  the  warning,  Zach  softly  retreated',  and 
in  good  time.  Scarcely  had  he  gained  the  road 
when  four  stout  men  appeared,  bearing  upon  a  litter 
a  heavy  load  of  merchandise,  which  they  deposited 
in  the  cave. 

It  was  late  when  Zach  arrived  home,  —  far  too 
late  to  take  any  action  on  his  discovery ;  but  next 
morning  he  lost  no  time  in  laying  the  matter  before 
Arbuthnot,  as  the  wisest  head  among  his  narrow 
circle  of  acquaintance. 

The  worthy  Scotchman  heard  the  story  with  a  face 
quite  impassive. 


264  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"They  're  pirates,  that  gang,  and  their  leader  is 
one  of  your  own  citizens,"  said  Zach  hotly.  "They 
have  made  a  cave  there  big  enough  to  hold  a  whole 
ship's  goods." 

"Na,"  answered  Arbuthnot,  with  a  sly  twinkle  in 
his  eye.  "  They  did  na  mak  the  caves ;  ilka  body 
kens  thae  caves,  an  thae  gentlemen  are  no  exactly 
pirates,  neyther,  but  a  soort  o'  gentlemen  free-tra- 
ders, ye  ken.  A  wrecker  is  na  a  pirate,  lad;  he  's  a 
lang  way  removed,  gin  he  be  na  oot-an-oot  an  honest 
mon!" 

"He  's  a  pirate,  I  say,"  repeated  Zach  stoutly. 

"  'T  is  na  weel  to  spier  intil  ither  folkses  business 
in  thae  pairts,  tak  my  ward  for  that;  sae  keep  yer 
finger  oot  o'  the  pie !  " 

"  That  will  I  not,  and  if  I  were  not  going  so  soon, 
I  would  put  it  in  with  some  effect.  Tell  me,  now, 
who  is  the  official  to  go  to  with  this  story?  " 

"  Ane  wad  think  ther  'd  be  nane  betther  than  Mr. 
Attorney  General  yon,  wha  has  little  to  do  but  pit 
up  his  lazy  feet  on  the  table  and  read  books  frae 
mornin'  till  night." 

"The  attorney  general?" 

"Ay,  the  Honorable  Mr.  Kerr,  gin  ye  maun  hae 
yer  way  " 

But  Zach  was  already  off  on  his  errand.  Enter- 
ing the  office  designated,  he  asked  for  the  attorney 
general. 

A  clerk  on  a  stool  silently  pointed  to  a  door  lead- 
ing to  an  adjoining  room. 

Zach  went  in,  and  found  a  tall  man  dressed  in 
black  stooping  over  a  table.  The  man  lifted  his 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  265 

head,  and  showed  a  pale  face  knitted  up  into  an  ha- 
bitual scowl. 

The  effect  was  notable.  Although  he  neither 
started  nor  spoke,  Zach  showed  in  his  face  a  pro- 
found astonishment. 

"You?" 

"Eh?" 

"Mr.  Blennerhassett!" 

"Sh-h!"  hissed  the  startled  official,  jumping 
from  his  seat  and  hastily  shutting  the  door.  "Do 
not  speak  that  name  here!  " 

"Eh!" 

"My  name  is  Kerr  —  Kerr,  sir !  " 

"But  when  I  knew  you  —  when  you  were  with 
Burr,  you  used  to  be  called  " 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,  sir!  I  never  saw  you  — 
I  never  heard  of  you  before,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Kerr  angrily.  "You  are  mistaken  —  mistaken, 
I  say,"  he  repeated,  still  more  excitedly.  "And 
who  are  you,  and  what  may  be  your  business  with 
me?" 

Rather  bewildered  by  the  encounter,  Zach  related 
what  he  had  to  tell,  the  attorney  general  listening 
with  extreme  impatience. 

"Poh!  a  few  wreckers  hiding  goods  in  a  cave! 
'T  is  an  every -day  matter.  The  goods  are  lost  to 
their  owner,  and  are  treasure  trove  to  the  first 
comer.  These  gentlemen  have  their  rights  as  find- 
ers. If  that  be  your  whole  business  with  me  " 

"It  is  all,"  murmured  the  complainant,  his  moral 
sense  now  becoming  as  muddled  as  his  intellectual. 

"You  '11  excuse  me,  then,  for  wishing  you  good- 


266  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

day,"  said  the  testy  official,  rising  and  bowing  in  a 
manner  too  significant  to  be  mistaken. 

Next  morning  the  Chance  duly  sailed.  Zach, 
having  spent  all  his  money  on  the  unlucky  pink 
pearl,  was  obliged  to  sell  his  watch  to  pay  for  his 
passage. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

ARTICLE  IX.  of  the  Treaty  of  Ghent  provides, 
among  other  things,  that  the  United  States  of 
America  shall  forthwith  restore  to  the  Indians  "all 
the  possessions,  rights,  and  privileges  which  they 
may  have  enjoyed  or  been  entitled  to  in  one  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  eleven." 

It  boots  not  here  to  tell  again  the  story  of  how 
the  said  United  States  of  America  got  possession  of 
the  rich  hunting-grounds  of  the  Creeks  and  Semi- 
noles,  and  how,  once  obtained,  they  held  on  to  their 
prize.  It  is  a  threadbare  old  story,  which  does  not 
improve  with  age.  Enough  for  the  present  purpose 
to  say  that  with  the  publication  of  the  treaty,  a  long- 
smouldering  hope  flamed  up  anew  in  the  red  man's 
bosom.  The  Great  Father  at  Washington  had  then 
answered  his  prayer,  his  lands  were  to  be  given 
back,  his  wrongs  righted.  Fiat  justitia,  ruat  ccelum. 

The  ingenuous  red  man  was  premature  with  his 
jubilations.  He  grew  wiser  on  a  closer  acquaint- 
ance with  civilization.  Months  passed,  years  passed, 
the  sky  held  its  place  while  justice  lay  skulking. 
What  then  ?  Treaties  have  been  disregarded  before. 
If  the  United  States  of  America  choose  to  ignore 
Article  IX.,  who  is  to  hinder?  Not  the  British. 
They  have  enough  to  do  to  look  after  Buonaparte, 
without  enforcing  treaties  for  their  far-off,  helpless, 


268  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

and  savage  allies.  Not  the  Spaniards,  who  have 
scant  vigor  to  keep  up  their  child's  play  at  govern- 
ment in  the  Florida  peninsula.  Not  any  moral 
scruples  of  its  —  the  United  States  of  America's  — 
own,  for  a  government  is  a  corporation,  and  a  corpo- 
ration has  no  conscience.  So  the  red  man's  claims 
go  unheeded  while  this  deed  which  he,  in  his  igno- 
rance, calls  a  robbery,  becomes  sanctioned  by  pre- 
scription, and  the  robber  goes  on  his  prospering  way 
unscathed. 

Meantime,  the  red  men  are  not  content.  They 
are  unwise  enough  to  show  their  resentment,  and  in 
a  rude,  futile  way,  to  seek  redress.  The  United 
States  of  America,  thereupon,  very  promptly  and 
forcibly  retaliate,  with  what  result  will  presently 
appear. 

Into  the  very  midst  of  this  international  muddle, 
by  no  intent  or  fault  of  his  own,  Zach  now  came 
blundering,  like  Goodman  Blind.  That  is  to  say, 
embarked  with  Arbuthnot,  Ambrister,  young  Jock 
Arbuthnot,  and  clerk  Peter  Cook,  on  board  the 
Chance,  which  was  otherwise  laden  with  a  well- 
selected  cargo  of  powder,  lead,  knives,  blankets, 
vermilion,  beads,  calico,  clothing,  and  other  things 
dear  to  the  savage  heart,  he  duly  came  to  anchor  in 
the  harbor  of  Pensacola,  after  a  prosperous  voyage 
of  two  and  a  half  days. 

Having  no  plans  of  his  own,  he  readily  caught  at 
a  suggestion  from  Arbuthnot  to  cast  in  his  lot  with 
the  others  at  the  trading-station. 

Although  not  in  line  with  certain  lofty  ambitions 
he  had  long  nourished,  this  venture  promised  to  re- 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  269 

suit  in  something  better  than  a  makeshift.  Indeed, 
upon  his  very  first  marshaling  of  the  possibilities, 
a  startling  notion  flashed  upon  him:  might  it  not 
bring  into  his  life  a  new  element  of  success?  —  a 
meaner,  more  ignoble,  but  essential  element?  Ar- 
buthnot  was  said  to  have  made  a  fortune  out  of  it. 

A  fortune !  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  se- 
riously considered  the  subject  concretely.  By  a 
strictly  original  chain  of  reasoning  he  was  now  led 
to  recognize  money  as  a  source  of  power.  Upon 
riper  meditation  he  was  amazed  to  find  how  often 
and  how  largely  this  new  element  entered  into  com- 
bination with  other  forms  of  success,  and  with  what 
amazing  splendor  of  effect. 

Money!  The  Falconers  had  it.  Their  friends 
had  it.  Nearly  all  the  notable  persons  he  had 
known  in  life  had  seemed  to  have  plenty  of  it.  Even 
in  the  case  of  Burr,  was  it  not  the  lack  of  it  which 
surrounded  that  hapless  man  with  an  atmosphere  so 
sordid  and  pathetic?  Was  not  the  lack  of  it  the 
sole  cause  for  the  present  misery,  distress,  and  sep- 
aration of  the  Blennerhassetts?  Might  it  not  be  the 
lack  of  it  which  kept  one  Zachary  Phips  from  realiz- 
ing certain  dear  desires  ?  His  early  days  in  Florida 
were  filled  with  these  reflections,  which  are  here  for- 
mulated from  a  study  of  effects. 

Arrived  in  port,  Arbuthnot  made  his  arrange- 
ments with  a  skill  acquired  by  long  experience. 
Peter  Cook  was  to  be  sent  northward  to  announce 
to  the  Georgia  Indians  the  return  of  their  old 
friend  with  a  fresh  cargo.  Jock,  with  a  negro  slave 
for  attendant,  was  to  be  dispatched  up  the  Suwanee 


270  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

in  a  canoe  to  the  trading-station,  to  open  and  make 
ready  the  storehouse  for  the  coining  goods,  notifying 
Chief  Bolecks  and  his  tribe  of  their  arrival.  The 
trader  himself  was  to  linger  at  Pensacola  for  some 
days  to  dispose  of  certain  of  his  wares  to  the  town- 
folk  and  report  upon  divers  commissions  he  had  ex- 
ecuted for  his  old  friend  the  Spanish  commandant. 
Zach  was  to  be  left  in  command  of  the  vessel,  Am- 
brister  having  expressed  an  intention  of  going  ashore 
with  the  trader. 

Directly,  all  was  bustle  on  board  the  little  schooner. 
Hastening  his  preparations,  Jock  got  off  the  day  of 
their  arrival.  Peter  Cook  was  not  ready  until  the 
following  morning.  Zach  chanced  to  be  on  deck 
within  earshot,  and  heard  the  old  trader's  final  direc- 
tions to  his  departing  clerk.  He  had  grievous  cause 
many  times  afterwards  to  recall  that  moment,  both 
to  applaud  the  old  man's  shrewdness  and  caution, 
and  to  puzzle  over  the  sly,  shifty  expression  of  the 
clerk's  face. 

"Things  hae  sairly  changed  hereaboot  sin  we  hae 
been  awa,  lad.  Ther  's  an  unco  stir  i'  the  air,  but 
it's  nae  affair  o'  ours,  mind  ye!  Sae  haud  yer 
tongue,  but  keep  baith  eyes  and  ears  open." 

"Never  fear,  sir!  They  're  not  likely  to  catch  me 
napping." 

"As  ye  '11  nae  be  ganging  sae  far  awa  frae  Ham- 
bly  and  Doyle,  it  wadna  be  amiss  to  drap  in,  in  a 
neighborly  way,  and  see  for  yersel  how  the  wind  is 
blawing.  Ther 's  talk  thae  twa  hae  turned  their 
backs  on  Colonel  Nichols  an'  his  teachings,  sin  he 
sailed  awa  hame." 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  271 

"Aha,  I  know  'em." 

"An'  hae  gane  ower,  body  an'  saul,  to  Forbes  & 
Co.,  our  rivals.  They  say  —  I  gie  it  only  by  way 
o'  hearsay,  God  forbid  I  sud  speak  ill  o'  ony  ane ! 
—  they  say  thae  twa  be  haun  an  glove  wi'  the  Yan- 
kees, an'  hae  thus  come  by  gude  recht  to  be  held  in 
suspicion  by  the  redskins." 

"I  see." 

"Aweel,  this  may  na  be  a'taegether  sae  bad  a 
thing  for  us,  mair  by  token  I  hae  ever  keepit  my 
word,  gin  it  war  my  aith,  wi'  the  redskins,  an'  they 
bear  it  in  mind,  lad.  Ay,  ay,  mind  ye  that !  Fair 
dealin'  is  aye  the  true  way,  whether  it  be  wi'  saunt 
or  sinner." 

"Not  a  doubt  o'  that,  sir." 

"An',  Peter,  ane  word  mair  i'  yer  lug:  gin  ye 
meet  ony  o'  our  auld  frien's,  the  chiefs,  haud  a  taut 
grip  o'  yer  tongue.  They  're  at  loggerheads  wi' 
the  Yankees  lang  syne,  an'  a'  has  gane  wrang  wi' 
them,  puir  deevils,  sin  Colonel  Nichols  went  awa. 
Ther  braw  fort  is  ta'en  awa  by  the  thievish  ney- 
gurs,  an'  blawn  up  by  the  Yankees,  an'  nane  o'  the 
gran'  things  promised  by  Nichols  hae  come  to  pass. 
The  Yankees  play  them  fause,  an'  naebody  '11  heed 
ther  complaints :  sae  tak  ye  nae  sides  i'  the  maitter, 
or  waur  may  come  o't!  " 

A  variety  of  small  matters  kept  Arbuthnot  at 
Pensacola  a  week,  which  he  spent  mostly  on  shore 
enjoying  the  hospitality  of  his  friend  the  comman- 
dant. 

All  being  at  last  ready,  they  set  off  for  the  trad- 
ing-station. Their  course  up  the  beautiful  Suwanee, 


272  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

bordered  for  much  of  the  way  by  the  primeval  for- 
est, was  an  unusual  and  pleasant  experience  for 
Zach. 

Arrived,  they  found  Jock  and  his  attendant 
eagerly  awaiting  them.  All  was  in  readiness,  and 
the  next  two  weeks  were  passed  in  landing  and  stor- 
ing the  goods. 

Meantime  the  Indians  heard  of  their  arrival,  and 
came  every  day  in  increasing  numbers  to  trade. 
With  the  others  came  also  the  chiefs,  —  all  old 
friends  of  Arbuthnot,  —  Opy  Hatchy,  Apiny,  Map- 
palitchy,  and  last  but  not  least,  the  great  Bolecks 
himself. 

Zach  noted  with  a  passing  surprise  that  these 
chieftains  paid  'little  heed  to  the  tempting  store  of 
goods  laid  out  for  their  inspection,  but  with  gloomy 
looks  and  knitted  brows  were  forever  beckoning 
the  trader  forth  to  whispered  conferences  in  the 
forest. 

Whatever  the  purport  of  all  these  talks,  they  fur- 
nished the  trader  with  much  food  for  reflection,  for 
he  went  about  constantly  with  a  look  of  preoccupa- 
tion, and,  quite  unlike  himself,  would  sit  the  whole 
evening  in  the  doorway,  smoking  his  pipe,  and  never 
open  his  mouth  to  speak. 

The  problem  he  was  busied  with  was  clearly  not 
one  to  be  thought  out  in  a  minute,  and  weeks  thus 
passed  —  weeks  of  busy  days  and  long,  thoughtful 
evenings  —  before  he  came  to  any  conclusion. 

At  last,  as  it  seemed,  he  made  up  his  mind :  one 
day,  after  an  unusually  long  conference  with  the 
chiefs,  Arbuthnot  called  Zach  from  the  storehouse 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  273 

into  his  own  little  room  to  act  as  his  amanuensis, 
he  himself  being  disabled  by  rheumatism. 

"I  hae  noted  ye  write  fair  an'  large,  lad,  an'  what 
I  here  say  I  want  writ  as  plain  as  ye  ken  hoo.  I 
charge  ye  til  set  doun  ma  preceese  words,  or  mischief 
may  come  o't." 

Promising  to  do  his  best,  Zach  seated  himself  at 
the  little  pine  table  and  took  up  a  pen. 

"'Tis  an  uncanny  business,  this  we  hae  to  deal 
wi',  an'  the  less  note  ye  tak  o'  what  gaes  intil  yer 
lug  an  oot  o'  yer  pen,  the  better,  mayhap,  it  may  be 
for  ye." 

With  this  introduction,  than  which  nothing  could 
have  served  better  to  fix  the  attention  of  his  aman- 
uensis, the  Scotchman  dictated  a  letter  to  the  Ameri- 
can commandant  at  Fort  Gaines,  of  which  the  follow- 
ing extract  contains  the  gist,  both  as  to  style  and 
substance :  — 

"The  head  chiefs  request  that  I  will  inquire  of 
you  why  American  settlers  are  descending  the  Chat- 
tahoochee,  driving  the  poor  Indian  from  his  habita- 
tion, and  taking  possession  .of  his  home  and  culti- 
•  vated  fields  ?  Without  authority,  I  can  claim  nothing 
of  you;  but  a  humane  and  philanthropic  principle 
guiding  me,  I  hope  the  same  will  influence  you,  and 
if  such  is  really  the  case,  and  the  line  marked  out  by 
the  treaty"  of  peace  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  respecting  the  Indian  nation  has  been 
infringed  upon  by  the  subjects  of  the  latter,  that  you 
will  represent  to  them  their  improper  conduct  and 
prevent  its  continuance." 

Letters  of  like  tenor  were  written  to  the  British 


274  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

minister  at  Washington,  to  the  Governor  General  at 
Havana,  to  the  Spanish  governors  in  Florida,  to  the 
commandants  of  American  forts  on  the  frontiers,  to 
Governor  Mitchell  of  Georgia,  to  Colonel  Nichols  in 
London,  and  others. 

While  it  was  evident  from  all  this  that  the  trader 
had  the  cause  of  his  red  friends  deeply  at  heart, 
Zach  remarked  that  in  communication  with  them  he 
preserved  a  restraint  of  manner  and  conservatism 
of  tone  not  far  removed  from  coolness. 

Quite  otherwise  was  it  with  Ambrister;  charmed 
with  the  reception  accorded  him  by  the  chieftains, 
and  delighted  by  the  freedom  of  their  wildwood  life, 
he  warmly  espoused  their  cause  and  emphatically 
expressed  his  indignation  and  sympathy.  By  a  cer- 
tain free  and  confident  way  of  talking,  moreover,  he 
soon  inspired  his  new  friends  with  unbounded  con- 
fidence in  his  ability  to  help  them. 

In  justice  let  it  be  added,  he  did  what  he  could  to 
make  good  his  word.  He  appealed  to  his  uncle, 
Governor  Cameron,  at  Nassau,  he  wrote  to  Colonel 
Nichols,  he  consulted  many  others  of  authority  and 
influence,  and  meantime  kept  up  the  hopes  of  his 
petitioners  by  assurances  that  some  of  these  efforts 
must  succeed. 

During  all  these  weeks  of  waiting  he  passed  much 
of  the  time  as  an  honored  guest  in  the  wigwams  of 
Bolecks  and  his  followers. 

Affairs  at  the  station  went  on  quietly  and  regu- 
larly. After  the  return  of  Peter  Cook,  Arbuthnot 
was  relieved  of  much  of  the  detail.  It  was  a  matter 
of  surprise  to  Zach  that  the  bartering  also  was  left 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  275 

to  this  insignificant-looking  young  person.  It  may 
as  well  be  added  in  passing  that  he  soon  had  occa- 
sion to  modify  his  opinion  of  the  little  clerk's  abili- 
ties. 

Quite  unexpectedly  he  overheard  one  or  two  bar- 
gains made  by  Peter.  Having  met  with  unusual 
success  hunting,  one  day,  he  came  home  earlier  than 
usual  and  threw  himself  down  on  the  grass  outside 
the  warehouse  door.  Peter,  all  unsuspicious  of 
eavesdroppers,  was  bartering  with  some  Indians 
within.  Listening  idly  at  first,  Zach  presently  sat 
bolt  upright  and  cocked  his  ear.  The  phlegm  with 
which  the  trader  underrated  the  red  man's  skins, 
and  the  effrontery  with  which  he  put  an  exorbitant 
price  upon  the  trinkets  offered  in  exchange,  made 
the  listener  stare.  His  astonishment  reached  its 
height  when,  in  answer  to  the  protests  of  the  Indians, 
he  heard  Peter  in  his  cool  drawl  assure  them  that 
these  hard  terms  were  exacted  in  strict  accordance 
with  the  instructions  of  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 

Such  was  the  demand,  however,  that  notwith- 
standing these  hard  terms  and  high  prices,  the  stock 
of  goods  gradually  diminished,  and  it  became  evi- 
dent that  Arbuthnot  must  soon  go  back  to  Nassau 
for  a  fresh  supply.  Meanwhile  the  Indians,  tired  of 
waiting  for  the  long-delayed  answers  to  the  letters 
he  had  written  in  their  behalf,  summoned  him  to 
attend  a  council.  He  hesitated  at  first,  and  only  at 
the  eleventh  hour,  with  very  evident  reluctance,  de- 
cided to  go.  For  some  unassigned  reason,  he  took 
Zach  with  him. 

Led  by  an  Indian  guide  through  several  miles  of 


276  ZACUARY  PHIPS. 

trackless  forest,  they  came  to  a  clearing  where, 
about  an  open  camp-fire,  they  found  a  dozen  chiefs 
and  braves  assembled  in  solemn  conclave.  The 
white  men  were  gravely  welcomed  and  assigned 
places  in  the  circle,  where,  not  much  to  their  sur- 
prise, they  found  Ambrister  already  installed. 

For  a  time  nothing  was  said.  Presently  an  old 
chief  arose  and  comprehensively  stated  the  case  of 
the  Indian  against  the  United  States  of  America, 
winding  up  with  an  arraignment,  very  pointed  and 
forcible,  of  the  civilized  and  so-called  Christian 
white  man  in  his  treatment  of  his  so-called  red 
brother. 

The  speech  was  hardly  concluded  when  Armbris- 
ter  got  upon  his  legs.  Directly,  Arbuthnot's  face 
clouded,  and  he  uttered  one  or  two  dry  coughs. 
Unheeding  the  warning,  Armbrister  went  on  with  a 
very  vigorous  discourse.  He  said  in  brief  that  it 
was  of  no  use  to  mince  matters  any  longer,  that  the 
Indians  were  right,  that  the  Yankees  had  seized 
upon  their  land  and  were  crowding  them  out.  That 
these  latter  kept  no  word  or  oath,  that  they  came  on 
like  the  ocean-tide,  farther  and  farther  every  year. 
As  for  the  red  men,  they  had  now  been  warned  off 
even  the  small  territory  left  them,  —  lands  which 
had  all  once  belonged  to  their  fathers.  The  Great 
Chief  at  Washington  and  the  Great  Chief  over  the 
sea  had  made  a  treaty  agreeing  to  give  back  to  the 
red  men  the  lands  taken  from  them.  The  Yankees 
had  broken  their  agreement.  They  had  not  given 
back  the  lands,  and  they  never  would  until  they  were 
compelled.  It  was  time  to  dig  up  the  tomahawk, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  277 

and  drive  out  these  white  serpents  which  had  crept 
into  the  red  man's  wigwam. 

A  chorus  of  grunts  at  the  conclusion  of  this 
harangue  showed  how  every  word  had  struck  home. 
Then  fell  a  pause.  Arbuthnot  knew  it  was  his 
turn.  He  knew  also  how  to  make  his  words  effec- 
tive. He  was  no  novice  at  a  powwow.  Deliber- 
ately finishing  his  pipe,  amid  the  most  profound 
silence  he  rose,  knocked  out  the  ashes,  and,  glan- 
cing slowly  about  the  circle,  delivered  himself  in 
cool,  dry  tones :  — 

"Ma  frien's,  I  hae  hearkened  to  yer  speeches,  an' 
I  canna  say  I  like  them  weel.  What  is  set  doon  in 
truth  an'  reason,  I  hae  naething  to  deespute,  but 
for  the  rest  an'  the  muckle  pairt  o't,  't  is  bairn's 
play  an'  loud  talk.  Vinegar  catcheth  nae  flees,  an' 
loud  talk  '11  do  ye  nae  gude.  It  is  na  to  be  ques- 
tioned the  Yankees  hae  dune  ye  harm,  but  bide  yer 
time!  Wrang  is  na  righted  in  a  day.  Ye  hae 
heard  o'  the  treaty:  aweel,  ken  ye  noo  what  is  a 
treaty?  'T  is  a  solemn  an'  awesome  compact,  ilka 
line  an'  word  o'  whilk  is  a  sacred  thing,  whilk  maun 
be  kept  as  the  Gret  Spirit  keepeth  his  covenants. 
'T  is  laid  down  in  thet  treaty  ye  s'all  hae  bock  yer 
launds ;  an'  sae  ye  s'all.  Tak  my  word  for  it.  But 
't  is  a  weary  way  frae  this  to  Washington.  The 
Gret  Chief  yon  kens  little  o'  the  doin's  o'  thae  sons 
o'  Belial,  an'  when  it  comes  to  his  attention,  as  I 
hae  ta'en  pains  it  s'all,  ye  may  be  sure  he  '11  hae 
justice  dune  ye.  See,  then,  that  naebody  the  whiles 
raises  han'  to  do  ony  harm  to  thae  Yankees,  that 
naebody  stirs  up  strife,  that  naebody  does  onythin' 


278  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

to  brak  the  peace!  Thae  soort  yon  hae  mair  cun- 
nin'  an'  force  than  yoursel's.  Hae  ye  na  marked 
that  they  come  forth  frae  ilka  war  with  mair  lands 
and  goods,  whiles  the  red  mon  is  driven  far  an' 
farther  awa  frae  the  home  o'  his  forbears?  Tak  ye, 
then,  the  warnin'  o'  an  auld  mon!  Bide  yer  time! 
Do  naethin' — naethin' — naethin'!  "  he  solemnly 
repeated,  with  both  hands  uplifted,  "to  brak  the 
peace!  An'  noo  come  awa  wi'  ye,  Zach.  We 
maun  een  be  makin'  our  way  hame ! " 

Without  another  word  he  stalked  forth  from  the 
circle,  with  Zach  at  his  heels.  Not  unnaturally  the 
orator  concluded  that  the  Indians  were  impressed 
with  his  speech,  from  the  fact  that  for  several  weeks 
all  was  quiet  in  the  direction  of  Bolecks's  village, 
and  the  chiefs  did  not  once  show  themselves  at  the 
station.  As  the  weeks,  however,  rounded  into  a 
full  month,  this  silence  became  ominous.  Long 
experienced  in  Indian  tactics,  the  trader  feared  that 
it  boded  something  unwelcome. 

The  mystery  was  not  destined  to  remain  long  un- 
solved. One  afternoon,  as  Zach  stood  lounging  in 
the  doorway,  a  party  of  Indians  suddenly  emerged 
from  the  forest  and  advanced  towards  the  house. 
At  their  head,  an  astonishing  anomaly,  marched 
a  tall  savage,  dressed  in  the  splendor  of  an  Eng- 
lish military  uniform,  of  which  the  tight  -  fitting 
scarlet  coat  set  off  to  great  advantage  his  fine  figure, 
while  the  plumed  hat  added  loftiness  to  his  port. 
Scarcely  less  remarkable  than  he,  there  walked  by 
his  side  a  young  girl  of  sixteen  or  thereabouts,  of 
quite  phenomenal  beauty. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  279 

Arbuthnot  was  busy  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
house,  tinkering  up  a  packing-box  to  hold  his  skins. 
The  party  recognized  and  went  towards  him. 

Curious  to  know  something  of  visitors  so  unusual 
in  appearance,  Zach  called  Peter  Cook  to  explain. 

The  clerk's  face  darkened  at  sight  of  them,  and 
he  responded  with  a  disturbed  look  to  Zach's  ques- 
tions, — 

"Humph!  what  does  he  want?" 

"Who  is  it?" 

"The  great  Prophet  Francis." 

"A  chief?" 

"Yes  —  no  —  just  the  same  thing.  He  has  great 
power  over  the  copper  skins.  He  's  the  one  Colonel 
Nichols  took  over  to  England.  The  Londoners 
made  a  show  of  him,  —  took  him  to  court,  dressed 
him  up  like  a  turkey-cock,  and  turned  his  head. 
But,"  concluded  Peter,  muttering  to  himself  and 
withdrawing  out  of  observation  behind  Zach, 
"what 's  he  speechifying  to  the  old  man  about?" 

"Who  is  the  girl?"  pursued  Zach,  unheeding  his 
companion's  anxiety. 

"His  daughter,  to  be  sure,  —  a  sparkler,  ain't 
she?  As  civilized,  too,  as  you  please,  and  speaks 
English  like  a  Johnny  Bull.  She  can  write,  and 
read,  and  chatter  Spanish,  and  they  have  taught 
her  to  dance,  down  there  at  the  fort.  You  should 
see  Malee  dressed  up  in  the  London  toggery  her 
dad  brought  out  to  her." 

"The  Prophet  Francis, "muttered  Zach,  scanning 
the  group  with  growing  interest. 

"  The  Yankees  gave  him  that  name.     He  is  called 


280  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Hillishajo  among  his  own  sort,"  explained  Peter, 
who,  noticing  that  the  group  was  gradually  nearing 
the  house,  suddenly  withdrew. 

As  the  interview  between  her  father  and  Arbuth- 
not  bade  fair  to  be  a  protracted  one,  the  girl  was 
soon  observed  to  grow  restive,  and,  separating  from 
the  group,  began  to  saunter  about  the  clearing  and 
back  and  forth  before  the  door. 

Divining  her  curiosity,  Zach  graciously  invited 
her  in,  and  shrewdly  reasoning  that  the  savage  young 
woman  might  share  certain  weaknesses  common  to 
her  civilized  sister,  spread  before  her  wondering 
eyes  his  tempting  array  of  small  wares.  As  she, 
however,  had  nothing  to  offer  in  exchange,  it  was, 
on  his  part,  purely  a  labor  of  love.  His  pains  were 
rewarded  by  her  evident  delight,  which  was  so  great 
that  when,  at  last,  summoned  to  go  by  her  father, 
she  had  great  ado  to  tear  herself  away. 

Thereupon  Zach,  noting  the  struggle,  by  some 
happy  or  unhappy  impulse,  presented  her  with  a 
small  hand-mirror. 

More  eloquent  far  than  spoken  words  of  gratitude 
were  the  beaming  looks  of  the  enraptured  Malee. 
She  gazed  with  open  and  unstinted  admiration  at 
her  own  reflected  image,  and  was,  indeed,  so  lost  in 
its  contemplation  that  her  impatient  father  came  in 
person  to  summon  her  forth. 

With  an  amused  look  Zach  stood  in  the  doorway 
gazing  after  the  party,  as  they  moved  away,  noting 
the  vigorous  stride  of  the  father  and  the  free,  grace- 
ful, movement  of  the  girl.  As  they  reached  the  edge 
of  the  woods,  Malee  suddenly  turned  about,  but 


ZACHABT  PHIPS.  281 

finding  herself  observed,  shyly  dropped  her  head, 
and  Zach  imagined  he  could  detect  a  flush  suffusing 
her  dusky  cheek  as,  speeding  after  her  father,  she 
disappeared  beneath  the  overhanging  boughs. 

Hardly  had  the  party  disappeared  when  the 
trader,  leaving  his  work,  came  slowly  towards  the 
house.  As  he  made  room  for  him  to  pass  in,  Zach 
noticed  that  the  old  man's  face  was  white  and  stern. 
Calling  Peter  from  his  work  in  the  outer  warehouse, 
the  Scotchman  ushered  him  into  the  little  office  and 
carefully  shut  the  door.  The  precaution  was  idle, 
for  through  the  open  window  every  word  of  the  fol- 
lowing colloquy  was  distinctly  heard  by  Zach,  as  he 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Sae,  ye  fause  villain!  hoo  daur  ye  staund  up 
an'  look  me  i'  the  ee?" 

"What  have  I  done?" 

"What  hae  ye  dune?  What  hae  ye  dune,  ye 
domned  leein',  deceitful,  fause-hearted  traitor!  I 
hae  muckle  ado  to  haud  off  my  han'sfrae  yer  throat. 
What  hae  ye  dune?  Recht  weel  ye  ken,  an'  recht 
weel  ken  I.  Ye  hae  cozened  the  puir  redskins  oot 
o'  their  fair  returns,  ye  hae  extorted  unheerd  o' 
prices.  Ye  hae  robbed  an'  cheated,  an'  leed,  an' 
dune  a'  i'  my  name,  till  I  hae  nae  credit  left  wi' 
white  man  or  red,  an'  it  maun  be  oot  o'  the  mercy 
o'  Providence  gin  my  trade  be  na  a'taegether 
ruined." 

"  Who  said  I  did  this?    Where  are  your  proofs?  " 

"Proofs?  Haud  yer  fause,  leein'  tongue,  or 
ye  '11  gar  me  tear  it  oot !  Dinna  doot,  I  hae  proofs 
enow  an'  to  spare.  But  \vhare  pit  ye  yer  ill-gotten 


282  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

gains?  Whare,  I  say?  Gin  ye  gin  na  back  ilka 
baubee  to  its  lawfu'  owner,  Diel  tak  me,  but  I  '11 
ban'  ye  ower  to  be  dealt  wi'  by  the  savages !  " 

"I  can't  give  back  what  I  hain't  got,"  was  the 
sullen  answer. 

"Stop  whaur  ye  be,  ye  puir,  little,  drivelin', 
crawlin'  reptile!  Gin  ye  provoke  me  ane  point 
mair,  I  '11  lay  ban's  on  ye  mysel.  Stop,  I  say !  I 
hae  na  tauld  the  half  o'  yer  villainy.  It  has  a' 
come  to  licht,  the  lees  ye  tauld  Hamblyand  Doyle." 

"What  have  I  told  them?"  cried  the  accused, 
with  a  show  of  effrontery. 

"Aboot  ma  dealin's  wi'  the  redskins.  Ye  hae 
tried  to  stir  up  mischief  amang  us.  Ye  hae  tauld 
them  I  waur  spreadin'  tales  an'  lees  aboot  them. 
Ye  hae  spread  reports  that  I  am  stirrin'  up  the  red- 
skins to  mak  war  upon  the  Yankees,  when  ye  weel 
know  in  yer  fause  heart  I  hae  been  ever  workin' 
an'  strivin'  an'  cryin'  oot  for  peace." 

"If  you  believe  all  the  lies  which  that  copperskin 
has  been  pourin'  into  your  ears  about  me  "  — 

"I  do  —  I  do,  an'  I  hae  guid  cause." 

"  Let  any  man  prove  that  I  ever  "  — 

"Hae  dune  wi'  yer  braggadocio!  It'll  nae  gae 
doun  wi'  me.  Proofs,  said  he  ?  Here  be  proofs  enow  ! 
See  ye  here!  an'  here!  an'  here!  What  hae  ye 
noo  to  say?  Is  yer  ain  sign-manual  proof ,  or  no? 
Oh,  awa  wi'  ye!  Awa,  oot  o'  my  sicht!  Gang  awa, 
oot  o'  ma  house,  afore  the  day 's  an  hour  aulder! " 

"You  are  not  g-going  to  send  me  away?  " 

"That  am  I,  — that  am  I,  as  fast  as  yer  rogue's 
legs  '11  carry  ye." 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  283 

"  Wh-where  can  I  go?  " 

"I  care  na,  —  I  ken  na.  It 's  a'  ane  to  me.  Gae 
to  them  that  hauld  dealin's  wi'  siccan  snakes  i'  the 
grass!  Awa  wi'  ye,  I  say!  An'  ne'er  darken  my 
doorway,  or  come  near  til  me,  or  speak  til  me,  or 
I  '11  na  answer  for  my  patience!  " 

Pale  and  crestfallen,  Peter  came  forth  from  the 
interview.  A  half  hour  later,  with  his  pack  swung 
over  his  shoulder,  he  started  off  from  the  station. 
Reaching  the  edge  of  the  woods,  he  suddenly  turned, 
threw  down  his  pack,  and,  extending  both  arms, 
shook  his  clenched  fists  as  if  cursing  the  house  and 
its  inmates. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

VERY  soon  after  the  discharge  of  Peter,  Arbuth- 
not  and  young  Jock  set  sail  for  Nassau,  leaving 
Zach,  with  a  stout  negro  slave  for  attendant,  in 
charge  of  the  station. 

For  a  time  things  went  on  as  usual ;  then  came  a 
great  and  sudden  influx  of  trade.  Noting  that  the 
increased  demand  was  all  in  the  direction  of  ammu- 
nition, Zach  asked  the  cause,  and  was  told  it  was 
due  to  the  approach  of  the  hunting  season. 

The  reason  seemed  good,  and  he  was  satisfied; 
but  seeing  his  stock  so  rapidly  diminish,  he  be- 
thought him,  before  it  was  exhausted,  to  secrete  a 
store  for  private  use  beneath  the  floor  of  the  store- 
house. 

Deep  was  the  chagrin  of  the  late -comers  when 
told  that  the  supply  had  given  out.  Nothing  would 
satisfy  them  of  the  truth  of  the  statement  but  a 
thorough  search  of  the  premises. 

Thereafter,  trade  fell  off  as  rapidly  as  it  had  in- 
creased. The  grass  sprang  up  in  the  worn  places 
before  the  storehouse  door,  and  silence  settled  down 
upon  the  once  bustling  station.  The  few  Indians 
who  came  spent  their  time  prying  and  peering  about 
instead  of  trading. 

This  discovery  caused  the  young  trader  a  natural 
uneasiness.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself,  however, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  285 

that  it  had  no  significance,  and  might  have  suc- 
ceeded, but  for  a  little  incident  which  came  to  upset 
his  theory. 

Out  gunning,  one  day,  in  his  canoe,  he  floated  a 
half -score  miles  down  the  river  before  noticing  his 
whereabouts,  and  returning,  made  such  slow  head- 
way against  wind  and  tide  that  he  was  overtaken 
by  nightfall  before  reaching  home. 

Hugging  the  shore,  he  paddled  along  in  the  fading 
light  until,  as  he  rounded  a  headland  not  far  from 
the  station,  he  was  aroused  by  a  call  from  the  neigh- 
boring thicket.  Dropping  his  paddle  and  seizing 
his  rifle,  he  looked  keenly  towards  the  spot  whence 
the  voice  proceeded,  when  directly  the  figure  of  a 
human  being  —  whether  man  or  woman  he  could 
not  make  out  —  stepped  forth  and,  softly  hallooing, 
beckoned  him  to  approach. 

With  some  hesitation  he  turned  towards  the  shore 
and  recognized  Malee,  who,  stepping  softly  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  made  him  a  signal  not  to  land, 
while  at  the  same  time  she  leaned  forward  to  speak. 

"Keep  off  I" 

"But  why,  then,  did  you" — • 

"Sh-h-h!" 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"I  have  a  word  to  speak  to  you." 

"A  word?" 

"Take  care  I" 

"Eh?" 

"Keep  your  eye  always  open  over  there,"  pointing 
towards  the  station,  "and"  — 

"And?" 


286  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"Go  not  so  far  away  from  home!  " 
Before  the  perplexed  youth  could  ask  any  expla- 
nation, the  speaker  had  vanished,  and  only  the  shrill 
cry  of  the  tree-toad  and  the  distant  wail  of  the  whip- 
poorwill  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  darkening  forest. 

The  warning  thus  received,  combined  with  the 
odd  and  suspicious  behavior  of  the  Indians,  so  filled 
Zach  with  misgiving  that  he  was  tempted  more  than 
once  to  take  the  negro  and  dog  and  paddle  away 
down  the  river  to  the  Gulf.  Pride,  however,  season- 
ably interfered.  The  trader  had  left  him  in  charge 
of  his  property;  it  was  plainly  his  duty  to  watch 
over  and  defend  it. 

Thereafter,  he  was  more  cautious,  forbade  the 
negro  to  stray  far  away  from  the  house,  patroled 
the  neighboring  forest  by  day,  and  slept  with  bolted 
doors  and  cocked  pistols  at  night. 

About  a  week  after  his  meeting  with  Malee,  he 
was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  a  stranger,  —  a  white 
man.  The  new-comer  made  some  slight  purchase 
as  a  pretext  for  his  visit,  but  spent  his  time  for  the 
most  part  in  asking  questions  and  peering  about. 
Put  on  his  guard  by  this  prying  manner,  Zach 
showed  -himself  not  only  very  chary  in  giving  in- 
formation, but  quite  wanting  in  the  rude  border 
hospitality  usually  extended  to  strangers.  He  had 
cause  afterwards  to  approve  his  own  caution  when, 
the  man  having  departed,  Quimbo  the  negro  came 
in,  asking  excitedly, — 

"  Wha'  he  come  yer  fer?  " 

"Dunno.     Who  is  he?" 

"Dat'sMas'r  Hambly." 


ZACH  ART  PHIPS.  287 

Remembering  Arbuthnot's  opinion  of  his  visitor, 
Zach  did  not  feel  reassured  by  the  incident;  espe- 
cially one  bit  of  their  talk  came  again  and  again  to 
mind  to  puzzle  and  trouble  him. 
.     "Got  old  Bolecks  for  a  neighbor,  ain't  ye?  " 

"Yeah." 

"Wall,  look  out  for  him!  " 

"Why?" 

"The  old  snake  is  hissin'  agin." 

"What 's  the  matter  with  him?  " 

"Too  much  of  the  devil  in  him  to  keep  still.  He  's 
gittin'  the  whole  brood  of  copperskins  stirred  up. 
They  've  got  to  goin'  at  their  old  tantrums  agin, 
but,"  with  a  cunning  look,  "you  don't  care,  o£ 
course." 

"Eh?" 

"What  difference  does  it  make  to  you  if  they 
scalp  every  white  man  'twixt  this  an'  the  Gulf,  as 
they  threaten.  You  're  all  safe." 

"How  so?" 

"The  old  man  here  is  so  thick  with  'em,  they 
won't  touch  nothin'  belongin'  to  him." 

"Arbuthnot?" 

"Yeah.  They  say  he  egged  'em  on  to  this  'fore 
he  went  away." 

"It  's  a  lie! "  cried  Zach,  flaring  up  with  a  look 
so  fierce  that  the  visitor  discreetly  changed  the  sub- 
ject. 

Next  day,  to  the  extreme  surprise  of  its  solitary 
occupant,  Jock,  followed  by  a  negro  slave,  walked 
into  the  station.  Zach,  who  had  imagined  him  half 
way  to  Nassau,  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes.  Jock 


288  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

speedily  explained  that  his  father  had  heard  so  many 
disquieting  rumors  on  his  way  to  the  Gulf  of  a 
threatened  outbreak  between  the  white  men  and  the 
Indians,  on  account  of  the  continued  aggression  of 
the  Yankees,  that  it  was  thought  better  one  of  them 
should  come  back  and  help  to  watch  over  and  guard 
their  interests  at  the  station. 

In  view  of  this  sobering  news,  and  of  the  special 
directions  of  the  trader,  the  two  youths,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  their  slaves,  diligently  set  to  work  pack- 
ing up  goods  and  peltry,  making  all  things  ready  in 
case  of  need  for  an  immediate  removal. 

This  accomplished,  they  found  little  to  do  —  for 
latterly  their  trade  had  fallen  off  entirely  —  save 
to  supply  from  the  natural  sources  about  them  the 
scanty  needs  of  their  larder,  and  to  discuss  plans  of 
action  in  case  of  surprise. 

Busied  with  this  subject,  one  afternoon,  Zach  sat 
in  the  doorway,  while  Jock  had  gone  a  few  rods 
down  the  river  fishing,  and  the  two  slaves  were  hard 
at  work  in  the  woods  near  by  making  a  dugout. 

Save  for  an  occasional  murmur  of  talk  from  the 
negroes  and  the  dull  thud  of  their  tools,  a  deep 
silence  brooded  over  forest  and  river.  The  warm, 
languorous  air,  moreover,  tempted  to  sleep,  and  ac- 
cordingly Zach  was  about  dozing  off  in  the  midst  of 
his  plans,  when  he  was  aroused  by  the  strange  be- 
havior of  his  dog.  In  the  very  midst  of  a  canine 
dream,  the  dog  had  suddenly  started  up,  begun  to 
bark,  and  to  prick  his  ears  towards  a  definite  point 
of  the  forest.  Glancing  in  that  direction,  Zach  him- 
self fancied  he  saw  something  move.  Seizing  his 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  289 

gun,  therefore,  he  walked  rapidly  towards  the  spot, 
followed  by  the  growling  dog. 

Arrived  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  he  cautiously 
advanced  into  the  cover.  Stopping  to  listen,  he 
heard  a  faint  crackling  of  dry  twigs,  as  of  some  one 
stealthily  withdrawing.  Mounting  the  stump  of  a 
fallen  tree,  he  was  just  in  time  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  somebody  gliding  nimbly  away  into  the  deeper 
recesses  of  the  forest.  It  was  Malee. 

Reassured,  Zach  was  at  the  same  time  puzzled. 
On  what  errand  was  the  girl  hovering  about  the 
station?  Had  she  come  again  to  warn  him  of  the 
same  or  some  other  impending  danger?  Or  had  she 
been  brought  by  simple  curiosity?  Adopting  the 
latter  explanation,  he  returned  to  the  house,  and 
dismissed  the  matter  from  his  thoughts. 

Meantime,  at  intervals  during  the  ensuing  fort- 
night, the  dog  continued  his  odd  behavior,  appeared 
restive,  broke  forth  into  sudden  and  spasmodic  fits 
of  barking,  stared  at  the  forest  now  in  this,  now  in 
that  direction,  sniffing  and  growling. 

All  this  was  disturbing,  and  despite  some  doughty 
resolutions  to  the  contrary,  the  two  youths  found 
themselves  ill  at  ease.  The  forest  seemed  bristling 
with  unknown  and  innumerable  foes.  The  air 
seemed  thick  with  plots  and  mystery. 

In  this  state  of  mind  they  hailed  as  a  comfort  the 
visit  of  a  party  of  white  men,  who  one  morning  drew 
up  before  the  door.  They  easily  recognized  them 
for  Yankees.  The  strangers  wanted  ammunition, 
and  were  much  chagrined  to  be  denied.  When 
Zach,  furthermore,  with  a  view  of  establishing  their 


290  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

credit  as  traders,  ingenuously  acknowledged  that  a 
store  of  it  had  been  brought  over  from  Nassau,  but 
that  latterly  large  quantities  had  been  sold  to  the 
Indians  on  account  of  the  approach  of  the  hunting 
season,  the  men  whistled,  and  exchanged  glances 
with  one  another. 

One  of  them,  moved  perhaps  by  Zach's  straight- 
forward manner,  turned  back  as  they  were  about 
setting  forth  on  their  way,  and  whispered  a  warning 
that  they  had  better  get  down  the  river  forthwith 
into  the  protection  of  the  forts,  that  a  general  war 
was  impending,  that  the  savages  were  aroused  and 
organizing,  and  that  the  United  States  Government, 
stirred  up  by  some  late  atrocities,  had  dispatched 
General  Andrew  Jackson,  at  the  head  of  a  large 
force,  "to  crush  the  whole  brood  of  varmints,  root 
and  branch." 

Convinced  by  the  man's  manner  that  he  spoke  the 
truth,  Zach  felt  that  the  time  for  action  had  arrived, 
and  after  a  long  consultation  with  Jock,  decided  upon 
a  very  bold  expedient.  Relying  upon  the  long  and 
tried  friendship  existing  between  the  Indians  and 
Arbuthnot,  he  resolved  to  go  at  once  to  Bolecks,  as 
the  most  powerful  of  the  sachems,  and  ask  of  him 
some  assurance  or  safeguard  that,  in  the  threatened 
hostilities,  life  and  property  at  the  trading-station 
should  be  respected. 

He  lost  no  time  in  carrying  his  plan  into  execu- 
tion. Leaving  the  negroes  and  the  dog  for  Jock's 
protection,  he  took  his  rifle,  and  set  out  for  Boleeks's 
village.  The  distance  was  short,  and  the  way  well 
known.  Arrived  at  the  straggling  but  considerable 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  291 

hamlet,  he  found  it  deserted,  save  by  the  old  men, 
women,  and  children.  He  was  told  that  Bolecks  and 
his  warriors  were  absent  on  a  hunting  expedition. 
With  much  difficulty,  and  after  repeated  explana- 
tions of  his  purpose,  he  was  at  last  given  the  direc- 
tion of  their  camp  by  a  squaw  who  had  been  often 
at  the  station. 

Intent  upon  effecting  his  purpose,  he  set  forth 
upon  the  difficult  and  perilous  undertaking  of  find- 
ing the  Indian  rendezvous.  As  the  shortest  course 
was  by  the  river,  he  returned  to  the  station  and  got 
his  canoe.  In  this  way,  too,  he  could  more  easily 
take  the  necessary  store  of  provisions  and  ammu- 
nition. His  first  day  passed  without  adventure  or 
mischance.  At  night  he  slept  undisturbed  in  his 
canoe,  and  started  on  his  way  next  morning  without 
misgiving.  About  midday,  as  he  reached  a  narrow 
part  of  the  stream,  he  was  aroused  from  his  reveries 
by  the  loud  crack  of  a  rifle  and  the  whistling  of  a 
bullet  close  above  his  head. 

Directly  thereupon,  the  woods  resounded  with  a 
deafening  yell,  the  thicket  seemed  to  bristle  with 
the  muzzles  of  leveled  rifles,  and  a  score  or  more  of 
ugly  painted  faces  scowled  upon  him  from  the  nearer 
shore. 

Throwing  down  the  paddles,  Zach  seized  his  rifle, 
but  recognizing  the  folly  of  resistance,  made  a  sign 
of  surrender.  Promptly  three  or  four  half -naked 
savages  leaped  into  the  stream,  and  dragged  the 
little  boat  ashore,  where  its  occupant  was  roughly 
disarmed  and  bound. 

Although  he  understood  nothing  of  the  talk  of  his 


292  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

captors,  and  could  not  make  out  to  what  tribe  they 
belonged,  the  fact  that  their  faces  were  daubed 
with  paint,  and  that  they  were  all  heavily  armed, 
showed  plainly  enough  that  they  were  on  the  war- 
path. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  Zach  suffered  him- 
self to  be  taken  away  without  a  vigorous  protest ! 
Having  no  experience  of  their  manner  of  talking, 
he  blurted  out  what  he  had  to  say  after  his  own 
fashion :  — 

"Look  here,  my  friends,  you've  captured  me, 
an'  I  've  got  to  go  with  you,  because  you  are  ten  to 
one,  but  I  want  to  say  one  thing:  I've  done  you 
no  harm.  I  hain't  meddled  with  you  or  your 
business.  I  don't  care  anything  about  you,  one  way 
or  the  other.  I  'm  a  clerk  of  Arbuthnot's.  Arbuth- 
not  is  your  friend.  He  is  the  only  friend  you  've 
got  among  the  whites,  so  far  as  I  can  make  out. 
That 's  his  canoe  yonder,  an'  I  'm  going  down  to 
see  old  Bolecks  on  his  business.  You  won't  gain 
anything  by  taking  me  off.  You  '11  only  injure 
Arbuthnot.  That 's  all  I  got  to  say." 

The  Indians  affected  not  to  understand,  but  he 
saw  from  their  looks  that  they  were  lying.  He 
made  no  further  resistance  or  objection,  but  trudged 
stolidly  on  in  the  midst  of  the  troop  as  they  resumed 
their  march. 

At  nightfall  they  arrived  at  a  large  encampment, 
where  the  prisoner  saw  at  once  that  the  rumors  lie 
had  heard  were  only  too  well  founded.  That  a 
general  and  organized  revolt  was  on  foot,  he  could 
have  no  further  doubt;  and  from  the  grim  looks  of 


ZACH ART  PHIPS.  293 

the  chiefs  and  warriors,  he  felt  he  had  arrived  at  an 
unpropitious  moment. 

Noting  with  anxiety  the  reception  accorded  to  his 
little  band  of  captors,  he  was  somewhat  relieved  by 
the  grant  of  indifference  with  which  the  old  chief, 
to  whom  they  reported,  surveyed  him. 

Unhappily,  a  feast  followed,  during  which  much 
liquor  was  drunk,  and  a  party  of  scouts  arrived, 
who,  as  it  seemed  from  their  excited  looks,  brought 
unwelcome  news.  What  with  the  whiskey  and  the 
inflammatory  reports  of  the  new-comers,  the  whole 
assemblage  was  gradually  wrought  up  to  such  a 
pitch  that  when,  in  the  course  of  the  powwow,  a 
chance  allusion  drew  attention  to  the  prisoner,  there 
was  a  shout  of  exultation,  as  if  one  and  all  re- 
joiced to  find  so  near  at  hand  a  scapegoat  for  their 
wrath. 

Directly,  a  half  dozen  young  braves  ran  to  unbind 
Zach  and  lead  him  into  the  middle  of  the  circle.  As 
before,  he  made  out  nothing  of  their  talk,  but  from 
their  mood  and  looks  was  justified  in  auguring  the 
worst. 

There  followed  a  chorus  of  conflicting  suggestions 
as  to  the  disposal  of  their  victim,  which  was  silenced 
by  one  of  the  chiefs,  who,  with  some  brief  word  of 
command,  pointed  to  a  neighboring  tree. 

In  a  twinkling  Zach  was  stripped  and  bound  to 
the  jagged  trunk.  He  submitted  without  protest, 
looking  about  attentively  upon  the  circle  as  if  with 
a  purpose.  Presently,  through  the  disguise  of  war- 
paint, he  recognized  a  face  which  he  had  seen  before, 
—  that  of  the  Prophet  Francis. 


294  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

At  tte  moment  any  chance  was  worth  taking,  and 
thereupon  Zach  made  a  vigorous  effort  to  attract 
the  attention  of  one  who,  as  he  knew,  could  at 
least  understand  him.  His  attempt  was  frustrated 
and  his  voice  drowned  by  the  loud  shouts  of  those 
immediately  about  him. 

Meantime,  the  preparations  went  on :  a  space  was 
cleared  and  a  big  bonfire  built  upon  one  side  of  the 
tree,  the  glare  of  which,  falling  upon  the  bare  white 
skin  of  the  victim,  brought  it  out  in  vivid  relief 
against  the  dark  background  of  the  forest.  A 
crowd  of  young  warriors,  gathered  at  a  set  distance, 
were  waiting  in  eager  impatience  for  the  sport  to 
begin.  There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  com- 
petitors listened  breathlessly  for  the  word  of  com- 
mand. In  that  brief  moment  of  suspense,  hurled 
by  some  reckless  and  tipsy  hand,  a  tomahawk  whis- 
tled through  the  air  and  struck  with  a  sharp  thud 
in  the  tree,  above  the  victim's  head. 

In  the  tumult  that  followed,  a  young  woman  was 
seen  to  spring  from  the  mass  of  exulting  spectators, 
and  place  herself  before  the  victim,  facing  his  tor- 
mentors. 

With  a  deep-drawn  sigh  of  relief,  Zach  recognized 
the  prophet's  daughter. 

Undeterred  by  the  angry  protests  called  forth  by 
her  action,  and  indifferent,  as  it  seemed,  to  the 
threats  of  the  tipsy  young  braves  whose  sport  she 
was  spoiling,  Malee  held  her  place,  while  in  a  bold 
and  impetuous  appeal  she  addressed  the  chiefs. 
Owing  to  the  confusion  and  uproar,  her  speech  was 
inaudible  and  failed  of  effect. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  295 

Irritated  by  her  persistence,  an  overbold  young 
warrior  strode  forward  and,  seizing  her  by  the  arm, 
attempted  to  thrust  her  out  of  the  way.  Drawing 
a  knife  from  her  girdle,  the  incensed  girl  turned 
upon  him  with  a  fury  which  made  him  recoil,  and 
thereupon  Hillishajo's  potent  voice  was  heard  bid- 
ding the  assailant  begone. 

Thus  left  in  possession  of  the  field,  Malee  failed 
not  to  take  full  advantage  of  her  opportunity. 
Continuing  her  appeal  now  to  attentive  ears,  she 
soon  succeeded,  by  force  of  reason  or  eloquence,  in 
producing  an  impression  upon  the  listening  chiefs. 

Hillishajo  came  forward  and  condescended  to 
scrutinize  the  prisoner.  Failing  to  recognize  him, 
he  turned,  with  a  look  of  doubt,  to  his  daughter. 
Zach,  seeing  his  chance,  put  in  his  oar,  and  quietly 
reminded  the  prophet  of  his  visit  to  the  station  in 
English  dress  on  the  occasion  when  he  had  given 
Malee  the  mirror. 

Thereupon,  the  prophet  withdrew  and  held  a  con- 
ference with  the  other  chiefs;  they  deliberated  for 
several  minutes,  while  Malee  defiantly  held  her 
place  between  the  bloodthirsty  warriors  and  their 
victim. 

Deep  was  the  anger  and  disgust  of  these  young 
cutthroats  when  the  decision  was  announced.  For 
the  moment  the  captive's  life  was  spared,  his  clothes 
were  restored,  and  he  was  removed  under  guard  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  circle.  As  throughout  the  or- 
deal he  had  shown  firmness  of  nerve,  so  now  he  took 
care  to  betray  no  satisfaction  upon  his  escape.  In- 
deed, from  the  sullen  and  threatening  looks  of  the 


296  ZACUARY  PIIIPS. 

crowd  through  which  he  passed,  he  realized  that 
any  feeling  of  congratulation  was  yet  premature. 

As  he  was  led  away,  he  looked  eagerly  around  for 
Malee,  but  she  had  already  disappeared. 

Next  day  camp  was  broken,  the  Prophet  Francis 
(Hillishajo),  with  a  small  party,  turned  back  on  some 
hurried  errand  to  St.  Marks,  while  the  main  body 
pushed  on  through  the  forest,  to  what  destination  or 
for  what  purpose  the  prisoner  was  left  to  surmise. 
He,  although  unbound,  was  given  in  charge  of  two 
young  warriors,  who  marched  on  either  side  with 
loaded  rifles. 

A  second  and  a  third  day  found  them  still  on  the 
march,  and  being  accorded  scant  rations  and  little 
rest,  the  whole  party  began  to  look  the  worse  for 
wear.  Happily,  their  course  was  at  an  end.  At 
nightfall  they  arrived  at  their  destination,  an  island 
in  a  vast  swamp,  where  they  found  assembled  a  large 
multitude  of  Indians  of  various  tribes,  all  encamped 
in  much  disorder. 

A  night  of  commotion  was  followed  by  a  day  of 
turmoil.  The  constant  arrival  of  small  parties  of 
scouts  and  tardy  contingents,  each  bringing  reports 
of  some  new  outrage  or  aggression  of  the  enemy, 
kept  the  passions  of  the  mass  at  fever-heat.  The 
fierce  eyes  gleaming  forth  from  the  bedaubed  faces 
of  these  new-comers  and  the  bleeding  scalps  hanging 
from  their  belts  could  not  have  proved  a  reassuring 
spectacle  for  the  prisoner. 

An  unusual  commotion  followed  the  arrival  of 
one  of  these  parties.  Eager  to  see  what  was  going 
on,  Zach's  guards  dragged  him  forward  towards  Bo- 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  297 

lecks's  wigwam,  which  seemed  the  headquarters  of 
the  army.  There,  what  was  the  prisoner's  astonish- 
ment to  see  Jock  standing  before  the  assembled 
sachems,  reading  aloud  to  them  the  following  letter 
from  his  father,  — 

"  FORT  ST.  MARK,  2  April,  1818, 
9  o.  c.  in  the  morning. 

"  DEAR  JOHN,  —  As  I  am  ill  able  to  write  a  long 
letter,  it  is  necessary  to  be  brief.  Before  my  ar- 
rival here  the  commandant  had  received  an  express 
from  the  governor  of  Pensacola  informing  him  of  a 
large  embarkation  of  troops,  etc. ,  under  the  immedi- 
ate command  of  General  Jackson,  and  the  boat  that 
brought  the  dispatch  reckoned  eighteen  sail  of  ves- 
sel off  Appalachicola.  By  a  deserter  that  was 
brought  here  by  the  Indians,  the  commandant  was 
informed  that  three  thousand  men  under  the  orders 
of  General  Jackson  —  one  thousand  men  afoot,  six- 
teen hundred  horse  under  General  Gaines,  five 
hundred  under  another  general  —  were  at  Prospect 
Bluffs.  .  .  . 

"Late  in  the  afternoon  three  schooners  came  to 
anchor  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  this  morning 
the  American  flag  is  seen  flying  over  the  largest. 
I  am  blocked  here.  .  .  .  The  main  drift  of  the 
Americans  is  to  destroy  the  black  population  at  Su- 
wany.  Tell  my  friend  Bolecks  that  it  is  throwing 
away  his  people  to  attempt  to  resist  such  a  powerful 
force.  .  .  .  Endeavor  to  get  all  the  goods  across 
the  river  to  a  place  of  security,  and  also  the  skins  of 
all  sorts.  The  corn  must  be  left  to  its  fate.  Soon 
as  the  Sahwahnee  is  destroyed,  I  expect  the  Amer- 


298  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

icans  will  be  satisfied  and  retire.  .  .  .  Himathlo 
and  Hillishajo  were  here  last  night.  .  .  .  They 
will  remove  all  their  cattle  and  effects  across  St. 
Marks  River,  and  perhaps  wait  near  thereto  for  the 
event.  .  .  . 

"If  the  schooner  is  returned,  get  all  the  goods  on 
board  of  her  and  let  her  start  off  for  Monater  Creek 
in  the  bottom  of  Cedar  Key  bay.  You  will  then 
have  only  the  skins  to  hide  away.  But  let  no  delay 
take  place.  .  .  .  Let  the  bearer  have  as  much  calico 
as  will  make  him  two  shirts.  .  .  . 

I  am  yours  affectionately, 

A.  ABBUTHNOT." 

Well  had  it  been  for  young  Jock  if,  when  he  had 
finished  reading  this  letter,  he  had  cast  it  into  the 
camp-fire  at  his  feet.  In  a  fatal  moment  he  handed 
it  to  Bolecks.  Its  contents  caused  a  profound  sensa- 
tion. It  had  the  immediate  effect  of  restoring  the 
lost  prestige  of  Alexander  Arbuthnot.  The  chiefs 
saw  now  that  their  suspicions  of  their  old  friend 
were  unfounded.  But  his  warning  came  too  late. 
They  were  too  deeply  aroused  to  heed  wholesome  ad- 
vice from  any  quarter.  The  gods  had  made  them 
mad,  and  madly  they  rushed  on  to  destruction. 

His  audience  with  the  chiefs  concluded,  Jock 
withdrew  to  find  rest  and  refreshment.  His  wants 
were  eagerly  attended  to.  As  he  sat,  soon  after 
eating,  in  a  neighboring  wigwam,  he  felt  himself 
touched  lightly  upon  the  arm.  Turning,  he  recog- 
nized Malee.  In  obedience  to  her  imperative  signal, 
he  rose  with  much  reluctance  from  his  half -finished 


ZACHAEY  PUIPS.  299 

supper  and  followed  her.  Having  led  the  way  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  encampment,  she  paused  in  the 
shadow  of  a  large  tree  and  pointed  to  a  group  of 
three  persons  seated  about  a  fire.  In  one  of  them, 
to  his  measureless  astonishment,  he  recognized  Zach. 

It  was  a  joyous  meeting.  In  a  few  minutes,  Zach 
explained  his  predicament.  Forthwith  Jock  betook 
himself  to  headquarters,  where  he  scrupled  not  to 
invade  the  powwow  of  the  chiefs  and  establish  the 
identity  of  the  prisoner. 

Grateful  for  the  late  show  of  friendliness  on  the 
part  of  the  trader,  the  sachems,  without  more  ado, 
gave  orders  that  the  prisoner  be  released  and  be 
allowed  to  proceed  on  his  journey. 

As  the  object  of  his  mission  had  been  unexpect- 
edly accomplished  by  Arbuthnot's  letter,  Zach  had 
nothing  to  do  but  return  with  Jock  to  the  station, 
and  carry  out  as  speedily  as  possible  the  directions 
in  the  letter. 

Accordingly,  having  procured  from  Bolecks  a 
guide,  they  started  next  morning  early  on  their 
homeward  way,  Zach  having  first  made  a  hasty  sur- 
vey of  the  camp  in  hopes  that  he  might  have  a  word 
with  Malee.  Finding  no  trace  of  her,  he  concluded 
that  she  had  been  one  of  a  party  of  squaws  sent  back 
the  previous  day  to  Suwanee. 

Hardly,  however,  had  they  got  beyond  the  imme- 
diate neighborhood  of  the  encampment,  when  they 
came  upon  the  girl  walking  alone  in  the  forest.  She 
started  at  sight  of  them,  and  was  about  to  make  off, 
when  Zach  called  for  her  to  stop. 

Hurrying  up,  he  held  out  his  hand.     Malee,  with 


300  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

downcast  eyes,  plucked  in  a  shamefaced  way  at  her 
skirt,  and  affected  not  to  see  it. 

"You  saved  my  life,"  began  Zach,  bluntly;  "no 
matter  whether  it  was  worth  saving  or  not,  it  was  a 
great  thing  for  you  to  do.  Those  ruffians  were  go- 
ing to  hack  me  up  for  their  fun,  and  you  stopped  it. 
I  don't  know  what  made  you  take  such  a  risk  for 
me.  But  you  did,  and  that 's  enough.  I  saw  it. 
I  felt  it,  and  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart.  I  sha'n't  forget  you,  and  I  sha'n't  forget 
what  you  did,  and  I  hope  you  will  shake  hands  with 
me  before  I  go." 

Flushing  pink  through  her  dark  skin,  Malee  shyly 
touched  her  hand  to  his  and  then  darted  away,  shak- 
ing the  dew  from  the  underbrush  and  startling  the 
birds  from  their  coverts  in  her  fawn-like  flight. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"LET  it  be  signified  to  me  through  any  channel 
.  .  .  that  the  possession  of  the  Floridas  would  be 
desirable  to  the  United  States,"  wrote  Andrew 
Jackson  from  The  Hermitage,  to  President  Mon- 
roe at  the  White  House,  "and  in  sixty  days  it  will 
be  accomplished." 

President  Monroe,  being  sick  abed,  did  not  feel 
up  to  reading  the  tiresome-looking  letter  handed  him 
by  his  Secretary  of  State,  and  so  tucked  it  under 
the  pillow  to  await  his  mood  and  leisure. 

As  time  and  again  airier  nothings  than  this  have 
changed  the  course  of  history,  it  need  be  no  cause 
for  wonder  that  this  small  incident  gave  the  current 
of  contemporaneous  events  a  very  perceptible  twist, 
for  thus  it  chanced  that  the  maddest  of  mad  bulls 
was  let  loose  in  the  international  china-shop,  or, 
in  other  words,  that  the  doughty  Andrew  afore- 
said, hearing  nothing  of  the  letter  tucked  under  the 
presidential  pillow,  and  taking  silence  for  assent, 
straightway  raised  an  army  on  his  own  hook  and 
started  off  oil  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  ma- 
rauding expeditions  known  to  history. 

Sojourning  upon  Spanish  soil,  a  guest  of  the 
commandant  of  a  Spanish  fort,  Arbuthnot  heard 
without  misgiving  of  the  approach  of  Andrew  Jack- 
son and  his  army.  With  a  conscience  void  of 


302  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

offense,  protected  by  the  flag  of  a  powerful  nation, 
he  had  personally  no  cause  for  concern.  So  it 
seemed ;  in  point  of  fact,  however,  he  was  destined 
to  be  speedily  and  rudely  awaked  from  a  peace 
founded  upon  such  crude  and  old-time  reasoning. 

Not  less  startling  than  a  cyclone  was  the  advent 
of  the  Yankee  leader  to  the  sleepy  southern  penin- 
sula. The  earth  seemed  to  shake,  the  air  to  be 
stirred  at  his  approach.  Despite  the  fact  that 
Spain  and  the  United  States  were  at  peace,  despite 
certain  puerile  considerations  of  international  law, 
despite  other  stale  moral  distinctions  of  right  and 
wrong,  the  unceremonious  American  scrupled  not  to 
swoop  down  upon  the  unoffending  commandant  of 
St.  Marks,  turn  him  neck  and  crop  out  of  doors, 
take  possession  of  his  stronghold,  and  shake  out  the 
stars  and  stripes  above  its  ramparts. 

Collecting  his  dazed  wits,  and  concluding  very 
wisely,  under  the  circumstances,  that  as  a  British 
subject  his  own  room  would  be  better  than  his  com- 
pany, the  worthy  Scotchman  mounted  his  horse,  in 
the  bustle  attending  upon  the  evacuation,  and  was 
about  to  ride  away  upon  his  business,  when  he  was 
arrested  and  made  a  prisoner. 

Meanwhile  Zach  and  young  Arbuthnot,  having, 
according  to  the  trader's  directions,  buried  the  bulk 
of  their  goods  and  skins  in  a  secure  place  near  the 
station,  took  to  their  canoes,  paddled  down  the  river, 
and  arrived  safely  on  board  the  schooner,  which 
they  found  standing  off  and  on  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Suwanee,  awaiting  the  return  of  its  owner  from 
a  visit  to  his  old  friend  the  commandant. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  303 

Aware  of  the  arrival  of  the  American  army,  and 
uneasy  at  the  trader's  prolonged  absence,  Zach,  leav- 
ing the  Chance  in  charge  of  his  companion,  went 
ashore  to  reconnoitre. 

Arriving  at  the  town,  he  was  bewildered  to  hear 
of  the  arrest  of  Arbuthnot.  Warned  by  so  unac- 
countable a  proceeding  to  keep  clear  of  the  fort,  he 
loitered  in  the  neighborhood,  watching  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  communicate  with  his  employer.  Hearing 
by  chance  of  the  presence  of  some  Indians  in  the 
neighborhood,  he  sought  them  out,  hoping  to  learn 
the  reason  of  the  old  Scotchman's  imprisonment. 

They  proved  to  be  a  detachment  of  Seminoles 
under  the  Prophet  Francis,  who,  having  success- 
fully conveyed  his  cattle  across  the  river,  was  now 
encamped  with  his  little  band  on  the  opposite  side 
to  note  the  movements  of  the  enemy. 

Great  was  the  wrath  of  Hillishajo  on  hearing  of 
Arbuthnot's  arrest.  Directly,  the  last  cloud  of  sus- 
picion melted  into  thin  air,  and  it  was  accepted  as 
sufficient  proof  of  the  trader's  loyalty  to  the  Indians 
that  he  was  treated  as  an  enemy  by  the  Yankees. 
With  a  profound  contempt  for  that  mongrel  people, 
acquired  during  his  residence  in  London,  the  Pro- 
phet was  for  rescuing  his  old  friend  by  a  night  at- 
tack on  the  fort.  To  this  end  he  sent  out  scouts  to 
learn  the  most  assailable  point  of  the  stronghold. 

As  Zach  could  countenance  no  such  attack  upon 
his  own  countrymen,  he  was  greatly  embarrassed  by 
the  sachem's  enthusiasm. 

Cudgeling  his  brain  for  some  way  out  of  the 
difficulty,  he  was  unexpectedly  relieved  by  the  sud- 


304  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

den  arrival  of  Malee  with  a  party  from  the  interior, 
bringing  news  from  Bolecks  and  the  allied  chief- 
tains, and  summoning  the  Prophet  to  repair  with  all 
haste  to  Suwanee. 

Constrained  by  this  imperative  call,  Hillishajo 
reluctantly  gave  up  the  attempt  to  release  the  pris- 
oner, but  assured  Zach  that  if  General  Jackson 
dared  to  invade  the  Indian  country  as  he  had  threat- 
ened, he  would  there  fall  into  an  ambush  which  was 
preparing  for  him,  and  together  with  his  army  be 
utterly  destroyed,  when  it  would  be  an  easy  matter 
to  reinstate  the  commandant  and  deliver  Arbuthnot. 

Zach  readily  accepted  the  excuse,  and  in  further 
testimony  of  his  good-will,  accepted  the  Prophet's 
invitation  to  pass  the  night  in  camp. 

Next  morning,  what  was  the  surprise  and  joy  of 
the  Indians,  on  getting  up,  to  behold  a  war-vessel 
near  the  mouth  of  the  river  flying  the  British  flag. 
The  Prophet  could  hardly  contain  himself.  He 
grunted  like  a  savage.  He  swore  like  a  white  man. 
Here  was  one  strong  enough  to  put  down  the  blus- 
tering Yankee.  Here  in  the  very  nick  of  time  were 
his  old  and  faithful  friends  come  to  his  rescue. 

Taking  Himollemico,  one  of  his  chiefs,  for  atten- 
dant, the  Prophet  lost  no  time  in  rowing  over  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  new-comers. 

His  followers,  meanwhile,  waited  on  shore  in  con- 
fident expectation  of  his  cordial  welcome.  From 
their  outlook  upon  the  river's  bluff  they  could  dimly 
see  what  took  place  on  the  vessel's  deck. 

The  chiefs  were  promptly  hoisted  on  board,  were 
received  with  apparent  cordiality  by  the  officers  of 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  305 

the  vessel,  and,  after  a  little  conversation,  were 
shown  below.  An  hour,  two  hours,  ten  hours  passed, 
and  they  did  not  reappear.  The  long  day  wore 
away,  and  still  the  group  of  watchers  stood  anx- 
iously waiting.  At  sunset  there  was  a  movement 
on  board  the  vessel.  With  one  accord  a  cry  of 
rage  and  despair  burst  from  the  Indians.  The 
English  flag  had  been  hauled  down,  and  the  Ameri- 
can colors  run  up  in  its  place. 

At  last  the  dumfounded  savages  understood. 
They  had  been  duped  by  a  Yankee  trick.  Their 
chiefs  had  been  lured  on  board  a  Yankee  vessel. 

Straightway  they  held  a  council  of  war.  It  was 
evident  from  their  looks  that  they  were  discussing 
desperate  measures.  The  powwow  was  interrupted 
by  a  cry  from  Malee.  She  was  standing  on  the 
bluff,  pointing  at  the  vessel.  All  looked,  and  in 
dogged  silence  beheld  the  vessel  weigh  anchor  and 
slowly  sail  up  to  a  position  under  the  protection  of 
the  guns  of  the  fort. 

In  futile  rage  the  baffled  warriors  regarded  one 
another,  at  a  loss  what  to  do ;  their  plans  of  reprisal 
had  been  defeated  by  this  simple  movement. 

At  this  juncture  Malee  stepped  forth,  and  in  a 
few  imperative  words  assumed  direction  of  affairs. 
Whether  recognizing  her  authority  or  the  wisdom  of 
her  advice,  nobody  gainsaid  her. 

Understanding  not  a  word  that  was  said  about 
him,  Zach  could  only  guess  what  was  doing.  From 
the  fact  that  runners  were  sent  off  in  hot  haste  to 
various  points  of  the  compass,  he  gathered  that, 
whatever  their  purpose,  it  was  not  to  be  carried  out 
without  recruits  and  cooperation. 


306  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Although  he  let  it  be  known  that  his  sympathies 
were  with  them,  Zach  made  no  offer  of  service  to 
his  red  friends.  He  could  take  no  part  in  any 
hostile  movement  against  his  own  countrymen. 
This  feeling  seemed  to  be  recognized  by  the  Indi- 
ans, for  they  did  not  consult  him  in  their  plans. 

Inclined  at  first  to  attribute  this  delicacy  on  their 
part  to  a  hint  from  Malee,  Zach  presently  altered  his 
mind.  The  girl  seemed  wholly  unconscious  of  his 
presence.  When  they  met,  she  looked  through  him, 
around  him,  past  him,  but  never  at  him.  Filled 
with  forebodings  as  to  her  father's  fate,  every  fac- 
ulty of  her  heart  and  soul  seemed  intent  on  com- 
passing his  deliverance. 

In  a  moment,  by  this  sharp  stroke  of  experience, 
she  had  been  transformed  from  an  unconsidered  girl 
to  a  tragedy  queen. 

Nor  was  this  moral  development  wanting  in  im- 
pressive physical  signs.  Quite  unconsciously  she 
took  on  a  largeness  of  gesture  and  grandness  of 
mien  which  Zach  regarded  with  silent  wonder. 

Pending  the  return  of  their  messengers,  the  night 
was  spent  by  the  Indians  about  the  council  fire. 
With  the  earliest  dawn  they  broke  camp,  and  under 
cover  of  the  woods  moved  along  the  shore  to  a 
promontory  directly  over  against  the  fort  and  within 
easy  range  of  its  guns.  Here  everything  which 
took  place  within  the  works  or  on  the  vessel  could 
be  seen. 

They  arrived  as  if  by  appointment  to  assist  at  a 
spectacle.  There  was  a  movement  on  the  ramparts 
of  the  fort.  Soon  after  sunrise  some  men  appeared 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  307 

bearing  timbers,  from  which  they  proceeded  to  make 
a  rude  structure  whose  purpose  was  not  apparent,  — 
the  Indians  with  breathless  interest  marking  every 
blow  of  the  hammer,  which  was  seen  to  strike  the 
wood  a  full  half  minute  before  the  sound  of  the  im- 
pact could  be  heard  across  the  stream.  At  last  the 
thing  was  done.  The  workmen  went  away.  There 
was  an  interval  of  silence,  during  which  'the  stage 
was  deserted.  Then  began  the  second  act.  A 
group  of  men  in  uniform  appeared.  They  looked 
about  and  talked.  One  of  them  made  a  gesture 
of  command.  Presently  another  group  advanced. 
The  watchers  uttered  a  cry  of  consternation.  It 
was  a  squad  of  soldiers  escorting  their  chiefs. 

The  drama  now  moved  swiftly  on  through  its 
third  and  final  act.  The  officer  in  command  made 
another  gesture »  The  arms  and  legs  of  the  prison- 
ers were  bound,  a  noose  was  thrown  over  their 
necks,  and  with  no  more  circumstance  or  ceremony 
than  would  have  sufficed  a  dog,  they  were  swung 
writhing  and  struggling  aloft  to  the  scaffold. 

Deaf  to  the  hoarse  cry  of  rage  and  grief  which 
burst  from  her  followers,  the  daughter  of  the 
Prophet  stood  upon  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  steadfastly  upon  this  ghastly  scene,  — 
stood  without  word  or  movement,  —  stood  as  if  she 
had  been  changed  to  stone. 

After  a  space  Zach,  moved  by  compassion,  ven- 
tured to  go  to  her.  He  was  shocked  by  the  change 
wrought  in  her  looks.  The  roundness  of  youth  was 
gone.  The  eyes  were  hollow ;  the  nose  looked  hawk- 
like in  its  aquiline  sharpness,  while  tense  lines  about 


308  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

the  month  gave  an  aspect  of  grimness  to  the  lower 
face. 

Countrymen  or  no  countrymen,  Zach  now  blurted 
out  his  opinion. 

"  'T  is  murder  they  have  done  yonder,  whoever 
they  be.  A  brutal  murder  it  is.  A  crime  against 
mankind  and  against  nations.  Nothing  can  ever 
wipe  out  the  guilt  of  it!  " 

The  girl  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard. 

"I  pity  you,  Malee.  I  pity  you  with  all  my 
heart.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  for  you !  " 

The  words  stuck  in  his  throat.  They  seemed 
empty  and  hollow,  and  mockingly  inadequate. 
Why  did  he  waste  his  breath?  The  girl  did  not 
heed  him.  He  went  closer  to  her,  and  gently 
touched  her  arm.  She  turned  mechanically.  He 
was  appalled  by  her  look  of  suffering. 

"Remember,"  he  faltered,  hardly  knowing  what 
he  said,  —  "remember  I  am  your  friend,  and  I  will 
stand  by  you! " 

His  words  never  reached  her  mind.  She  gave  no 
sign  of  having  heard  them  as  she  turned  her  staring 
eyes  back  upon  those  dangling  bodies. 

A  sensible  creeping  of  the  flesh  emphasized  the 
moment  for  after-remembrance,  for,  united  with  the 
dumb,  unformulated  grief  in  the  sufferer's  face,  the 
beholder  detected  a  look  of  deadly,  blighting  vindic- 
tiveness. 

Meantime,  brute  force  held  sway,  and  was  not 
to  be  stayed  by  a  woman's  heart-ache.  The  swift 
march  of  events  left  no  time  to  think  of  the  past,  to 
plan  for  the  future.  It  was  only  left  to  act  in  the 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  309 

whirring  present ;  to  choose  a  part  and  take  it ;  to 
move  in  the  van,  or  be  overborne  and  trampled  on 
by  the  victorious  feet  of  the  invader. 

Striking  the  keynote  of  his  campaign  by  this  act 
of  treachery  and  murder,  the  next  day  Jackson 
was  away  on  a  forced  march  to  the  eastward,  to  fall 
upon  Bolecks  and  his  confederates,  and  crush  at 
one  blow  the  whole  Indian  power. 

Upon  the  withdrawal  of  the  American  army, 
Zach  made  an  attempt  to  see  Arbuthnot.  As  it  was 
not  yet  known  upon  what  charge  he  was  arrested, 
the  old  Scotchman  was  not  rigorously  dealt  with, 
and  accordingly,  after  a  proper  examination  as  to 
motives,  his  clerk  was  admitted  to  see  him. 

Entering  the  cell,  Zach  found  the  trader  reading 
a  battered  copy  of  Burns's  poems,  which  he  always 
carried  in  his  pocket.  Recognizing  his  visitor,  he 
quietly  went  on  repeating  aloud  the  concluding 
stanza  of  the  poem  he  was  reading,  — 

' '  The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men 

Gang  aft  a-gley ; 

And  leave  us  naught  but  grief  and  pain 
For  promised  joy.' " 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Zach,  astonished  at  his  em- 
ployer's equanimity,  and  not  knowing  what  else  to 
begin  with. 

"Aweel,  lad." 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  sir?" 

"Little  or  naething,  as  ye  may  see.  But  a  body 
could  be  doin'  a  waur  thing  than  reading  Bobby 
Burns,  God  bless  him !  He  's  been  a  comforter  to 
me  in  mony  a  dark  hour  lang  syne." 


310  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"What  right  had  they  to  take  you?" 

"Na,  gae  to  them  that  knaw  wi'  yer  riddles. 
'Tis  a  short  answer  wad  serve  them.  Muckle 
might  maks  muckle  right,  I  ween;  'tis  the  strang 
arm  settles  the  questions." 

"  If  you  had  told  them  you  were  a  British  sub- 
ject "- 

"  Hout  toot !  't  is  there  lies  a'  the  trouble ;  an'  I 
had  been  ane  o'  the  Yankees,  they  wad  na  hae  pit 
me  intil  a  dungeon  wi'out  sae  muckle  as  by  yer 
leave." 

"But  if  you  have  done  them  no  wrong "  — 

"Ay,  but  I  hae." 

"What?" 

"The  same  harm  ilka  puir  little  fule-lamb  does 
to  the  wolf,  — I  hae  commeeted  the  offense  o'  being 
born." 

"But,"  persisted  Zach,  now,  as  always,  impatient 
of  humor,  "when  he  comes  back,  when  he  hears  the 
facts,  he  must  release  you." 

"Wha  kens?"  murmured  the  trader,  resignedly. 
"But  enow  o'  me.  Tell  me  noo  how  gaes  it  wi'  ye 
lads?" 

"All  well." 

"Ye  got  yon  letter  o'  mine?  " 

"Yes." 

"Guid!  I  misdoubted  the  redskin.  An'  the 
gear  —  the  peltry  ?  " 

"All  hid  under  ground,  as  you  said." 

"  ;T  is  weel ;  ye  're  guid  lads,  —  and  ye  left  a' 
snug  at  the  station?  " 

"The  best  we  knew  how." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  311 

"But  where  left  ye  the  bit  schooner?  " 

"At  the  mouth  of  the  river,  with  Jock  in  charge." 

"Jock  in  charge,  —  Jock  in  charge,  say  ye?  'T  is 
as  muckle  as  yer  life  's  worth  to  stay  yonder  anither 
hour.  Awa  wi'  ye,  and  pit  oot  to  sea!  The  Yan- 
kee cruisers  are  as  thick  as  hornets  all  aboot." 

"We  heard  of  this  business,  and  I  came  to  see 
what  could  be  done." 

" Dinna  fash  yer  head  aboot  me!  Think  o'  the 
schooner,  and  the  pretty  cargo  we  hae ;  gin  onything 
gaes  wrang  wi'  ane  or  tither,  wha  's  to  answer?  " 

"  I  '11  answer  for  everything,  if  I  can  only  get  you 
out  of  this,"  answered  Zach  boldly. 

"Ye  can  do  naething,  — naethiiig,  I  say.  I  maun 
bide  my  time.  When  yon  law -breaking,  blude- 
thirsty  ruffian  has  rin  his  course  and  finds  he  canna 
pit  finger  on  onything  agin  me,  he  '11  mayhap  let  me 
gae  free,  but  ye  can  do  naething  to  help  or  hinder ; 
sae  gang  yer  gait  back  to  the  Chance ;  I  '11  do  weel 
enow  by  mysel'." 

Zach  took  his  leave,  but  chose  otherwise  to  dis- 
regard his  orders.  Having  nothing  to  do,  and  no 
acquaintance  in  the  little  Spanish  town,  he  made  his 
way  instinctively  to  the  water-side. 

There,  seated  on  the  grass  beside  a  path  which 
led  to  the  shore,  he  reflected  upon  the  situation  of 
affairs,  and  upon  the  course  he  ought  to  pursue. 
The  outspread  landscape  before  him  lay  like  a  pic- 
ture, with  its  nice  distribution  of  light  and  shade, 
serene  in  effect,  tranquilizing  in  its  quietude,  —  the 
river  shut  in  by  densely- wooded  shores,  flowing  with 
ever-broadening  current  to  its  union  with  the  sea; 


312  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

the  vessels  at  anchor  midstream,  with  their  hulls 
and  rigging  mirrored  in  the  gleaming  water,  and  all 
flushed  with  yellow  light  from  the  setting  sun. 

As  he  gazed  and  pondered,  he  heard  voices  ap- 
proaching, and  was  vaguely  conscious  of  two  men 
going  along  the  path  on  their  way  to  the  river.  As 
they  passed  the  rock  where  he  was  seated,  he  per- 
ceived that  they  were  naval  officers,  and  noted  their 
uniforms. 

Following  them  with  preoccupied  eyes,  he  saw 
them  proceed  to  the  shore,  step  aboard  a  dingy 
which  lay  awaiting  them  at  the  landing,  and  push 
out  into  the  stream.  Rowed  by  two  stout  tars,  they 
yet  made  but  slow  progress  against  the  strong  cur- 
rent. 

To  add  to  the  variety  of  the  picture,  a  new  fea- 
ture was  now  introduced.  Shooting  suddenly  out 
from  behind  a  wooded  point  appeared  an  Indian 
canoe.  Paddled  by  an  expert  hand  it  skimmed  over 
the  water  like  a  bird,  seeming  scarcely  to  touch  its 
surface. 

Turning  upstream  on  a  parallel  course  with  the 
dingy,  it  steadily  and  swiftly  overhauled  that  clumsy 
craft. 

Awaking  from  his  preoccupation,  Zach  looked  on 
with  interest  and  attention,  —  a  human  element  had 
been  added  to  the  scene.  It  was  a  race  of  one 
against  four.  But  the  race  was  not  to  be  to  the 
swift.  The  victor  suddenly  threw  away  the  laurel 
already  within  reach.  The  Indian  in  the  canoe, 
when  within  fifty  yards  of  the  dingy,  threw  down 
the  paddles  and  rose  to  his  feet  with  something  in 


ZACIIAEY  PHIPS.  313 

his  hands.  Directly,  there  was  a  puff  of  smoke,  a 
sharp  crack,  and  one  of  the  officers  in  the  boat  fell 
backward. 

Zach  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  loud  oath. 

On  board  the  dingy,  the  attention  of  all  was  at 
first  centred  upon  the  dying  officer,  and  no  one 
heeded  the  movements  of  the  canoe.  The  occur- 
rence, however,  had  been  seen  on  board  the  gun- 
boats, both  of  which  turned  their  long  guns  on 
the  bold  culprit.  Their  bolts  fell  wide  of  the  tiny 
mark.  The  Indian  reached  the  shore  in  safety,  and 
vanished  in  the  covert. 

Zach  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  marked  the  spot  and 
measured  the  distance  with  his  eye.  It  was  on  his 
own  side  of  the  river,  and  not  a  half  mile  from 
where  he  stood.  Drawing  a  pistol  from  his  belt,  he 
dashed  through  the  woods  with  might  and  main  in 
the  hope  of  cutting  off  the  assassin's  retreat. 

His  movement  was  more  quickly  successful  than 
he  could  have  expected.  Rushing  on  at  headlong 
pace,  he  heard  a  noise.  It  was  repeated,  it  seemed 
continuous.  Was  it  going  away  from  or  coming 
towards  him  ?  Creeping  forward  like  a  panther,  he 
halted  every  other  minute  to  listen.  The  sound 
continued.  It  was  clearer,  and  nearer  at  hand. 

Reaching  a  little  opening  in  the  thicket,  Zach 
paused  again  to  assure  himself  that  he  was  not  mis- 
taken. No,  there  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt; 
the  rustling  of  boughs,  the  snapping  of  dry  twigs, 
heralded  the  approach  of  a  living  creature. 

Cocking  his  pistol,  Zach  stood  upon  his  guard. 
He  had  hardly  placed  himself,  when,  forth  from  the 


314  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

covert  in  panting  haste  rushed  the  breathless  refugee, 
—  it  was  Malee ! 

Dressed  in  the  garb  of  her  tribe,  with  her  long 
hair  floating  like  a  dusky  shadow  upon  her  shoul- 
ders, the  eagle  plume  denoting  her  rank  rising  from 
the  circlet  on  her  forehead,  with  her  cheeks  burning, 
her  eyes  glowing  with  a  look  of  exultation,  in  which 
no  touch  of  guilt  or  shame  had  place,  her  whole 
personality  produced  an  overpowering  effect  of  hero- 
ism before  which  her  would-be  captor  faltered  in  his 
intent. 

But  the  girl's  quick  eye  had  noted  his  weapon. 
Casting  away  her  rifle,  she  spread  wide  her  arms, 
crying,  — 

"Fire!  Malee's  work  done.  It  not  matter  now. 
He  come  to  life  no  more,  that  one!  He  hang  no 
more  Indian!  Fire!  White  man's  turn  now.  I 
like  it  better  from  your  hand  than  theirs.  Sh-h! 
Quick !  they  come  to  rob  you  of  the  chance.  Fire ! " 


CHAPTER   XX. 

A  TIMELY  diversion  saved  the  life  of  Malee  and 
drew  Zach  from  an  awkward  predicament.  No 
makeshift  incident  of  the  story-teller  was  this,  but 
an  historical  event,  more  or  less  familiar  to  students 
of  the  Seminole  War. 

Having  cut  to  pieces  and  dispersed  the  motley 
army  of  Indians  and  negroes  under  Bolecks  and  his 
slave  Nero  at  Suwanee,  having  burnt  their  town  and 
destroyed  their  stores,  General  Jackson,  flushed 
with  victory,  came  marching  back  to  St.  Marks. 

It  was  the  flourish  of  trumpets  announcing  his 
approach  which  awakened  the  whole  neighborhood 
to  excitement. 

Salutes  from  the  fort  and  thundering  salvos  from 
the  gunboats  heralded  the  advent  of  the  hero,  and 
amid  the  universal  blare  all  lesser  questions  were 
lost  sight  of. 

Returned,  the  winding  up  of  the  campaign  was 
a  small  matter  for  the  conqueror.  The  Georgia 
contingent  and  the  Indian  allies  were  already  dis- 
missed. Forts  were  rapidly  building  to  secure  the 
conquered  territory  and  hold  in  check  the  beaten 
savages  and  humbled  Spaniards.  There  remained 
only  the  trivial  business  of  disposing  of  his  prison- 
ers: to  wit,  the  trader  Arbuthnot,  and  one  Am- 
brister,  captured  on  their  march  to  the  Suwanee. 


316  ZACIIARY  PIIIPS. 

Having  established  his  camp  four  miles  north  of 
St.  Marks,  General  Jackson  addressed  himself  to 
the  business.  There  being  nothing  important  to 
hinder,  it  was  thought  well  to  invest  this  closing 
scene  of  the  campaign  with  a  show  of  procedure. 

To  the  surprise,  no  doubt,  of  those  familiar  with 
his  executive  impulses,  the  general  ordered  a  court- 
martial  to  inquire  into  the  cases  of  the  prisoners. 

To  Zach  and  young  Arbuthnot  this  news  brought 
great  relief.  A  court !  A  trial !  The  words  were 
synonymous  with  acquittal.  The  more  thoroughly 
the  record  of  the  trader  was  inquired  into,  the  more 
heinous  must  appear  the  indignity  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected. 

The  general,  having  put  the  matter  into  proper 
hands  for  adjustment,  busied  himself  at  headquar- 
ters preparing  his  dispatches  for  Washington,  and 
let  justice  take  it  course. 

The  day  came,  and  with  all  due  solemnity  the 
court  opened,  —  an  impressive  body,  composed  of 
thirteen  commissioned  officers,  presided  over  by  a 
major-general. 

Zach,  who  had  been  summoned  as  a  witness, 
watched  every  step  of  the  proceedings  with  closest 
interest. 

"Gaines, — Gaines,"  he  said,  repeating  to  him- 
self the  name  of  the  president,  and  reviving  certain 
vague  impressions.  Was  not  this  the  man  con- 
cerned in  a  certain  affair  at  Fowltown  which,  de- 
spite all  the  glozes  of  history,  sentimental  persons 
still  speak  of  as  an  infamy? 

From  the  president  his  eye  wandered  with  inquir- 


ZACHAEY  PU1PS.  317 

ing  eagerness  to  the  other  members  of  the  court,  — 
officers  returned  from  fighting  the  savages  at  Su- 
wanee,  and  thus  admirably  fitted  to  sit  in  judgment 
on  all  supposed  aiders  and  abettors  of  the  van- 
quished foe. 

Withal,  Zach  did  not  feel  reassured  from  this 
survey  of  the  court.  On  the  contrary,  to  tell  truth, 
he  was  filled  with  foolish  apprehensions.  His  sole 
crumb  of  comfort  was  the  calm  aspect  of  the  pris- 
oner. Familiar  as  he  was  with  the  trader's  appear- 
ance, he  had  never  before  noted  it  so  critically. 
The  man's  large,  forceful  head,  rendered  venerable 
by  its  snow-white  hair,  his  rugged  features,  his  be- 
nign yet  shrewd  expression  and  gravity  of  manner, 
all  combined  to  make  him  by  far  the  most  notable - 
looking  person  in  the  room. 

Zach  paid  closest  *heed  as  the  trial  progressed. 
The  offenses  of  the  prisoner  were  formulated  under 
several  charges,  the  gist  of  which  was,  — 

a.  That  he  had  acted  as  a  spy. 

6.  That  he  had  incited  the  Indians  to  war  against 
the  United  States. 

c.  That  he  had  supplied  them  with  the  means  of 
carrying  it  on. 

Little  used  as  he  was  to  judicial  proceedings,  Zach 
was  nevertheless  staggered  by  the  evidence  adduced 
in  support  of  these  charges. 

One  witness  was  a  nameless  Indian,  who  swore 
he  had  seen  a  letter  which  Arbuthnot  had  written 
to  the  chief,  Little  Prince,  a  year  and  more  before 
(which  letter  could  not  be  produced),  inciting  him  to 
war  against  the  United  States. 


318  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Other  witnesses  were  Hambly  and  Peter  Cook. 
A  specially  damning  piece  of  evidence  was  the  trad- 
er's letter  to  his  son,  before  cited,  which  was  found 
in  the  possession  of  one  of  Bolecks's  chiefs  taken 
prisoner. 

Ingenuous  Jock,  instead  of  being  overwhelmed  on 
the  production  of  this  instrument,  beamed  with  de- 
light, supposing  that  nothing  could  so  well  show  the 
innocence  of  the  letter  as  the  letter  itself.  He  was 
yet  to  learn  how  plain  talk  could  be  perverted. 

When  the  evidence  was  all  in,  the  prisoner 
summed  up  the  case  in  his  own  behalf.  With  a 
truly  lawyer-like  acumen,  he  applied  himself  directly 
to  the  gravamen  of  the  accusation,  and  with  what 
effect  all  the  world  may  now  judge,  for  his  plea  still 
stands  upon  our  records  for  all  the  world  to  read. 

Dropping  entirely  his  dea#  Scotch  dialect,  and 
speaking  in  well-chosen  English,  the  old  man  thus 
reviewed  the  case  of  the  government :  — 

"The  only  proof,"  adverting  to  the  letter  seen  by 
the  Indian  in  Little  Prince's  hands,  "that  this  hon- 
orable court  has  of  the  existence  of  such  a  letter  be- 
ing in  the  hands  of  any  person,  or  its  contents  being 
known,  is  the  vagrant  memory  of  a  vagrant  individ- 
ual. Make  this  a  rule  of  evidence,  and  I  ask  you 
where  would  implication,  construction,  and  inven- 
tion stop?  Whose  property,  whose  reputation,  and 
whose  life  would  be  safe  ?  Here  I  would  beg  leave 
to  mention  a  remark  made  by  the  president  of  this 
court  in  the  course  of  this  investigation,  which  was 
that,  notwithstanding  the  letter  was  proved  by  the 
witness  to  be  in  the  possession  of  Little  Prince, 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  319 

this  court  could  not  notice  that  circumstance  be- 
cause there  were  no  means  by  which  it  could  be 
obtained.  I  would  ask  the  honorable  court  what 
means  they  have  adopted  or  what  exertions  they  have 
made  to  procure  this  letter?" 

With  equal  force  he  discussed  the  evidence  of 
the  letter  addressed  to  his  son. 

"If  the  court  please,  this  letter  was  written  in 
consequence  of  my  property  at  Suwanee  and  the  large 
debts  that  were  due  me  from  Bowlegs  and  his  peo- 
ple. Nothing,  I  believe,  of  an  inflammatory  nature 
can  be  found  on  reading  the  document,  authorizing 
the  opinion  that  I  was  prompting  the  Indians  to 
war.  On  the  contrary,  if  the  honorable  court  will 
examine  the  document,  they  will  see  that  I  wished 
to  lull  their  fears  by  informing  them  that  it  was  the 
negroes,  and  not  the  Indians,  the  Americans  were 
principally  moving  against.  If  the  honorable  court 
please,  I  will  make  a  few  remarks  upon  the  second 
specification,  and  here  close  my  defense.  , 

"In  proof  of  this  charge  the  court  have  before 
them  the  evidence  of  Hambly,  Cook,  and  sundry 
letters  purporting  to  be  written  by  myself  to  differ- 
ent individuals.  May  it  please  the  court,  what  does 
Cook  prove  ?  Why,  that  I  had  ten  kegs  of  powder 
at  Suwanee.  Let  me  appeal  to  the  experience  of  this 
court,  if  they  think  this  quantity  of  powder  would 
supply  one  thousand  Indians  and  an  equal  number 
of  blacks  more  than  two  months  for  hunting?  As 
to  the  letters  named  in  this  specification,  may  it 
please  the  court,  the  rules  of  evidence  laid  down  in 
the  first  part  of  this  defense  will  apply  with  equal 
force  in  the  present  case. 


320  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"It  remains  now,  may  it  please  the  court,  to  say 
something  as  to  Hambly's  testimony;  and  may  it 
please  this  honorable  court,  the  rule  laid  down  in  this 
case  as  to  hearsay  evidence  will  be  found  without  a 
precedent.  A  strong  case  was  stated  by  an  intelli- 
gent member  of  this  court  on  the  examination  of 
this  part  of  the  evidence ;  that  is,  would  you  receive 
as  testimony  what  a  third  person  had  said,  whom,  if 
present,  you  would  reject  as  incompetent?  Apply 
this  principle  to  the  present  case :  could  an  unknown 
Indian  be  examined  on  oath  in  our  courts  of  judica- 
ture? If  then  the  testimony  of  savages  is  inadmis- 
sible, Hambly  proves  nothing. 

"  Here,  may  it  please  this  honorable  court,  I  close 
my  reply  to  the  charges  and  specifications  preferred 
against  me,  being  fully  persuaded  that,  should  there 
be  cause  for  censure,  my  judges  will,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  law,  lean  to  the  side  of  mercy." 

This  ended  the  trial,  so  far  as  it  concerned  Ar- 
buthnot.  Eagerly,  anxiously,  in  the  dead  silence 
which  ensued  after  the  prisoner  had  been  remanded 
to  his  cell,  Zach  scanned  the  faces  of  the  court. 
They  looked  troubled  and  thoughtf id. ,  Surely,  they 
must  have  been  impressed  by  the  trader's  speech. 

Firm  in  this  conviction,  Zach  withdrew  with  the 
other  spectators,  and  left  the  court  to  its  delibera- 
tion. 

Pending  its  decision,  he  received  a  message  from 
Arbuthnot  begging  to  confer  with  him.  The  inter- 
view was  permitted  with  reluctance,  and  only  upon 
the  urgent  petitions  of  the  prisoner. 

On  entering  the  little  cell,  Zach  warmly  congrat- 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  321 

ulated  its  inmate  upon  his  appearance  at  the  trial 
and  his  effective  defense. 

"I  dinna  ken,  I  dinna  ken.  I  hae  dune  the  best 
I  could,  an'  I  maun  e'en  leave  the  rest  to  Him  wha 
rules  the  just  and  the  unjust.  But  I  'm  recht  glad 
o'  a  word  wi'  ye,  lad,  whilkever  way  thae  yonder 
may  deceede  the  matter." 

"They  can  only  decide  it  in  one  way,"  broke  in 
Zach  emphatically. 

"Sae  I  hope,  lad,  sae  I  hope  my  ain  sel',  but  a 
plain  tale  gets  sair  twisted  i'  the  tellin',  an'  the 
rogues,  Peter  an'  Hambly,  are  i'  high  favor  wi'  the 
Yankee  general.  For  a'  that,  I  say  again,  whilk- 
ever way  it  goes  wi'  me,  't  is  the  pairt  o'  a  wise  mon 
aye  to  hope  for  the  best  and  prepare  for  the  warst. 
Sae  whiles  time  and  chance  haud  guid,  I  wad  gie  ye 
a  hint  o'  the  deesposition  to  be  made  o'  my  affairs 
gin  the  warst  come  to  the  verra  warst." 

Accustomed  to  his  employer's  caution  and  fore- 
sight, Zach  listened  with  patience  to  what  he  consid- 
ered needless  suggestions. 

"  Gin  this  matter  gaes  against  me,  —  as  pray  God 
it  may  na  do,  —  lose  ye  nae  time,  lad,  in  finding  oot 
Jock,  —  the  puir  bairn  was  wi'  me  here  a  minute 
sin',  but  wad  na  hear  a  ward  o'  onythin'  but  that  a' 
will  go  weel  wi'  me,  and  I  had  na  the  heart  to  dis- 
pute him,  — lose  ye  nae  time,  I  say,  in  sarchin'  him 
oot  an'  giein'  him  my  last  wishes." 

Zach  nodded,  with  a  look  of  good-natured  indul- 
gence of  this  moribund  weakness. 

"Tell  him,"  pursued  the  trader  earnestly,  "na 
to  bide  anither  hour  hereaboots,  but  get  him  awa  as 


322  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

soon  as  may  be  wi'  the  Chance  up  the  river,  dig  up 
the  skins  an'  the  goods  where  ye  hae  hid  them,  — 
there  '11  be  some  o'  yer  ain  amang  them,  whilk  I 
trust  to  yer  honor  to  share  fairly  wi'  Jock  as  the 
accounts  may  show." 

"I  '11  try  and  deal  fairly  with  him,"  murmured 
the  listener. 

"Mak  what  trade  ye  can  wi'  the  redskins  for  the 
chattels  left  ower,  —  a  bad  bargain  is  better  than  to 
tak  'em  back  hame.  The  savages  maun  be  in  sair 
straits  for  a'  things  needfu'  to  support  life  sin'  yon 
roisterin'  carle,  —  God  forgie  me  for  judgin'  ony- 
body  when  He  has  said  judgment  is  his  ain!  — sin 
yon  man  o'  war  has  burnt  an'  ruined  an'  destroyed 
a'  their  gear.  For  the  rest,  tell  Jock  frae  this  oot 
to  hae  dune  wi'  this  soort  o'  tradin' !  It  has  na  been 
wi'out  some  sma'  profit  i'  times  past  an'  gane,  but 
it  is  na  what  it  was,  and  is  like  to  be  ower  muckle  a 
risk  in  the  future.  Tell  him  to  bide  at  hame  in 
Nassau,  an'  be  content  wi'  sic  sma'  crumbs  o'  trade 
as  ane  may  pick  up  yonder.  Gin  he  choose  to  re- 
main idle  for  the  rest  o'  his  days,  —  whilk  God  for- 
bid !  —  he  has  enow  and  mair  to  keep  the  wolf  frae 
the  door.  But  gang  yer  gait  noo!  I  hae  dime! 
Gang  yer  gait,  like  a  guid  lad.  Leave  me  to  what 
sma'  rest  I  may  get  in  sic  a  place.  An'  for  this 
maitter  yonder,  God's  will  be  dune !  " 

Promising  faithfully  to  repeat  these  instructions 
to  Jock  in  case  of  need,  Zach  withdrew  with  a 
parting  word  of  comfort. 

Thereupon,  for  want  of  other  lodgings,  he  re- 
paired to  the  schooner,  which,  although  it  had  been 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  323 

seized  and  was  technically  under  arrest,  was  suf- 
fered to  remain  in  the  custody  of  its  own  crew. 

There,  just  before  daybreak,  he  was  awakened  by 
the  announcement  that  an  Indian  had  paddled  out 
in  a  canoe  and  demanded  to  see  him. 

With  his  eyes  full  of  sleep,  Zach  groped  his 
way  up  on  deck,  and  stood  several  minutes  leaning 
over  the  taffrail,  before  he  could  clearly  make  out 
the  messenger  bobbing  up  and  down  in  his  little 
craft. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  asked  impatiently. 

The  savage  drew  a  small,  round  object  from 
beneath  his  blanket  and  held  it  up.  By  the  gleam 
of  the  stern  light,  Zach  recognized  the  little  hand- 
mirror  which  he  had  given  Malee. 

"You  come  from  her?" 

The  Indian  nodded. 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"Chiefs  say,  'Old  man,  young  man,  they  die.' ' 

"The  court  say  that?" 

The  messenger  nodded  again,  and  continued,  — 
"To-day  for  them,  to-morrow  for  you,  — all  friends 
of  red  man  must  die.  You  have  ship,  —  go  while 
can!" 

Overwhelmed  by  the  news,  Zach  stood  for  some 
time  incapable  of  speech  or  motion.  Far  from 
heeding  Malee's  warning  with  regard  to  himself,  he 
bethought  him  only  of  some  expedient  whereby  he 
might  yet  save  his  employer's  life. 

There  was  no  time  to  waste,  nor  was  there  any 
choice  of  ways  and  means.  One  man  alone  could 
intervene  between  the  court  and  its  sentence,  and 


324  ZACIIARY  PIUPS. 

that  was  General  Jackson.  To  appeal  to  him  was, 
therefore,  the  only  alternative. 

Rowing  in  haste  to  the  shore,  Zach  seized  the  first 
horse  he  met  upon  the  street,  and,  despite  the  unin- 
telligible threats  and  imprecations  of  its  Spanish 
owner,  galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  the  camp. 
The  gray  light  of  coming  day  showed  him  the  bridle 
path.  The  leaves  of  the  forest  trees  were  glistening 
with  dew,  and  overhanging  branches  splashed  his 
feverish  face  with  their  cool  drippings  as  he  flew 
along.  The  air  was  filled  with  the  matins  of  the 
song-birds  and  the  fragrance  of  wild  shrubs. 

Insensible  to  all  this  charm  of  freshness  and 
sweetness,  Zach  rode  on,  deeply  preoccupied.  Doubts 
and  misgivings  as  to  the  result  of  his  mission  might 
well  beset  him.  He  thought  of  all  he  had  ever 
heard  of  the  redoubtable  man  to  whom  he  was  about 
to  appeal,  —  the  record  was  far  from  reassuring. 
In  his  suspense,  too,  he  was  tormented  by  smaller 
doubts;  the  way  seemed  endlessly  long;  he  might 
have  gone  astray. 

This  doubt  was  soon  dispelled,  for  presently  he 
arrived  at  the  spot  and  beheld  —  not  an  encamp- 
ment, but  its  remains!  Where  was  the  army?  It 
needed  no  ghost  come  from  the  grave  to  answer. 
The  ground  was  strewn  with  the  unsightly  evidence 
of  its  late  occupation.  Far  and  near  the  place  was 
defiled  by  the  obscene  havoc  of  humanity. 

Zach  stopped  aghast.  Was  he,  then,  too  late? 
There  was  something  astir  near  by,  in  the  forest. 
Riding  forward  he  came  upon  a  group  of  men  lei- 
surely breaking  camp.  They  were  all  officers,  — 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  325 

staff  officers.  His  eye  brightened.  He  had  guessed 
the  truth :  it  was  the  general  himself  and  his  staff, 
making  ready  to  follow  the  slower  movements  of  the 
main  body. 

Riding  straight  towards  the  group,  Zach  answered 
bluntly  two  or  three  officers  who  strove  to  intercept 
him :  — 

"I  want  to  see  General  Jackson!  " 

"What  is  your  business?" 

"My  business  is  with  him." 

"Let  him  come!  " 

In  obedience  to  this  authoritative  tone,  the  officer 
fell  back,  and  Zach,  advancing,  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  the  commanding  general. 

A  tall,  spare  figure,  bareheaded,  and  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, sitting  on  a  log  writing  dispatches,  was 
Zach's  first  impression  of  this  famous  man. 

"Well,  sir,  what  do  you  want?"  was  the  sharp 
demand,  as,  having  finished  a  sentence,  the  writer 
looked  up  and  disclosed  a  long,  lean  face,  a  narrow, 
forceful  forehead,  crowned  with  bristling  iron-gray 
hair,  and  lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  piercing  aquiline 
eyes. 

Intent  only  upon  his  purpose,  Zach  took  no  note 
of  these  small  matters,  but  answered  with  directness, 

"I  come  to  ask  a  favor." 

"Goon!" 

"To  ask  you  to  do  an  act  of  justice." 

"Out  with  it!" 

"To  show  mercy  to  that  innocent  man  they  have 
condemned  yonder." 

"Who  is  that?"  with  darkening  brows. 


326  ZACHABY  PIUPS. 

"Alexander  Arbuthnot! " 

"That  damned  villain! " 

"He  is  no  villain,"  was  the  bold  retort. 

"Take  care!  "  with  kindling  eyes. 

"He  is  an  injured,  innocent  man.  I  know  him. 
I  know  what  I  say.  Those  fools  yonder  have  found 
him  guilty  of  stirring  up  the  Indians  to  fight.  He 
did  nothing  of  the  sort !  " 

"Eh!" 

"Nothing,"  firmly.  "He  was  forever  bidding 
them  keep  the  peace  " 

"I  have  heard  all  these  lies  before." 

"He  cautioned,  he  warned,  he  held  them  back. 
It  was  like  holding  back  a  lot  of  bloodhounds.  But 
for  him  there  would  have  been  continual  scalpings 
and  bloodshed  all  along  the  border  these  years  past." 

"What  proofs  of  this?" 

"My  oath!" 

"And  who  are  you?  You  may  be  another  Brit- 
ish spy ! " 

"I  am  no  more  a  British  spy  than  you,"  cried 
Zach,  flaming  up.  "I  am  an  American  citizen.  I 
have  fought  and  bled,  too,  for  my  country  as  well 
as  you.  But  I  am  a  human  being  for  all  that,  and 
I  will  not  stand  by  without  a  word  and  see  an  inno- 
cent man  hung  like  a  dog!  " 

This  bold  protest  had  a  momentary  effect.  The 
general  gazed  with  a  passing  respect  upon  the 
speaker,  as  if  inclined  to  heed  him,  but  yielding 
directly  to  the  iron  prejudice  which  ruled  him,  he 
answered,  — 

"'Tis  none  of  my  affair.     The  court  has  tried 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  327 

him.  They  have  heard  witnesses.  They  have  given 
him  a  chance  to  speak.  They  find  him  guilty,  and 
condemn  him  to  die,  and  die  he  shall,  by  the  Eter- 
nal!" 

"Then  it  will  be  a  murder! " 

"You  dare  say  that  to  me?  " 

"A  murder,  and  on  your  head  it  will  lie  "  — 

"Silence,  or  by  G— " 

"  A  murder  as  foul  and  black  as  that  the  other 
day  you  committed  on  those  poor  savages,  the 
Prophet  Francis  and  Himollemico"  — 

His  face  flaming  with  wrath,  the  outraged  gen- 
eral sprang  to  his  feet,  and  seizing  from  the  ground 
beside  him  his  unsheathed  sword,  advanced  as  if  to 
strike  the  offender  to  the  ground. 

The  least  sign  of  fear  or  flinching  on  Zach's  part 
would  have  been  fatal.  Instead  of  avoiding,  how- 
ever, he  seemed  to  court  the  impending  blow.  Ad- 
vancing a  step  towards  his  assailant,  he  met  the 
glance  of  the  furious  old  man  with  an  unblenched 
face  and  an  eye  as  unquailing  as  his  own. 

"Strike!"  he  cried;  "strike,  I  say!  Prove  that 
you  are  a  bully  and  a  coward  as  well  as  a  mur- 
derer I  " 

Beside  himself  with  rage,  Jackson  threw  down 
his  sword  and,  seizing  the  taunting  youth  in  his  big 
bony  hands,  he  was  about  to  wreak  on  him  his  fury, 
when,  as  if  charmed  in  spite  of  himself  by  the  un- 
daunted look  of  his  victim,  he  muttered,  — 

"A  Britisher  and  a  liar  could  n't  look  like  that;" 
concluding  presently,  "  clear  away  out  of  this,  and 
thank  your  stars  I  didn't  kill  ye." 


328  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

"I  '11  not  budge  a  step  till  you  give  me  that  man's 
pardon." 

Fairly  taken  aback  by  the  audacity  of  his  visitor, 
which  stirred  at  once  his  wonder  and  admiration, 
the  general  answered  in  a  modified  tone,  — 

"  'T  is  no  business  of  mine  to  interfere.  The 
court  has  tried  and  sentenced  the  man  —  I  '11  not 
intermeddle." 

"  'T  is  you  that  do  it  —  't  is  you  alone ;  you  cannot 
shirk  the  responsibility;  the  guilt  will  be  on  yovir 
head." 

"The  court  has  found  him  guilty,"  persisted  the 
general,  but  with  a  show  of  weakening. 

"A  court  made  up  of  his  enemies." 

"No  matter  for  that;  they  were  honest,  fair- 
minded  men.  They  had  witnesses"  — 

"What  kind  of  witnesses!  One  his  rival  and 
mortal  enemy;  the  other  a  rogue  of  a  discharged 
clerk." 

"They  had  his  own  letters." 

"Why,  then,  didn't  they  produce  them?" 

"Eh?" 

"They  showed  but  one;  and  that  proved  clear  as 
day  that  he  was  innocent." 

"Who  says  this?" 

"I  say  it;  and  I  dare  you  to  read  the  letter  for 
yourself  and  say  otherwise." 

"  If  they  had  not  all  the  letters,  they  had  them 
who  had  seen  them." 

"Is  this  evidence  to  hang  a  man?  Shame! 
Shame!  It  should  not  hang  a  dog.  Stop  this  crime ! 
Stay  their  hands  while  it  is  time.  Do  not  let 


ZACHAJtY  PHIPS.  329 

this  murder  go  on !  Send  this  man  back  to  prison, 
and  I  will  pledge  my  life  to  prove  to  you  his 
innocence." 

Impressed  by  the  earnestness,  force,  and  fearless- 
ness of  the  petitioner,  the  general  walked  apart,  and 
strode  up  and  down  in  silence.  The  members  of  his 
staff  looked  in  wondering  amazement  that  Zach  had 
not  been  knocked  down  at  the  outset. 

"Here,  there,"  shouted  the  veteran  after  a  little, 
"give  me  pen  and  ink.  I  may  be  a  fool,  but  I  will 
inquire  into  this." 

Seating  himself  again  on  the  log,  he  took  a  piece 
of  paper  from  one  of  his  aides,  and  began  to  write. 

"As  for  you,  young  man,"  he  said,  addressing 
Zach,  as  he  scribbled  away,  "you  shall  stay  here  as 
security  for  these  fine  promises  you  have  made." 

Such  was  the  revulsion  of  feeling  caused  by  this 
sudden  prospect  of  success  in  his  undertaking,  that 
Zach  choked  over  the  thanks  which  he  could  not 
articulate. 

"There,"  cried  Jackson,  extending  a  scrap  of 
paper  to  one  of  his  aides,  "take  the  best  horse  in 
camp  and  carry  that  to  Major  Fanning,  and  don't 
let  the  grass  grow  under  your  feet." 

As  the  aide  took  the  paper  and  turned  to  go,  a 
trampling  of  horses'  hoofs  was  heard  close  at  hand, 
and  directly  several  men  in  uniform  emerged  from 
the  forest. 

"Eh,  Fanning,  is  that  you?  " 

"Ay,  sir,"  with  a  military  salute. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"I  came  to  report." 


330  ZACHABT  PHIPS. 

"I  gave  you  orders  to  attend  to  that  business  at 
the  fort." 

"That  is  all  attended  to,  sir." 

"You  mean"  —  began  the  general,  turning  per- 
ceptibly pale. 

"I  mean  the  executions." 

"What!" 

"They  took  place  an  hour  ago." 

"By  the  Eternal!" 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

MAKING  a  gibbet  for  the  venerable  martyr  upon 
his  own  schooner  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  rest 
of  the  business.  The  ghastly  spectacle  awaited 
Zach  on  his  return  to  St.  Marks. 

With  a  grim  look  he  took  note  of  it ;  with  a  grim 
look  he  went  about  the  duties  which  lay  before  him. 
It  was  no  time  for  words  or  tears  or  futile  rage. 
It  was  for  him  to  hunt  up  Jock,  —  the  poor  boy  had 
fled  horror-stricken  to  the  woods.  It  was  for  him  to 
secure  a  decent  burial  for  his  friend,  and  to  carry 
out  to  the  letter  those  parting  injunctions  heard  in 
the  prison  cell. 

It  was  from  the  garrulous  mate  he  heard  the  un- 
welcome details, —  heard  that  there  was  seen  at  least 
one  mourner  in  deep  affliction  at  the  morning's 
tragedy. 

"A  queer  customer  she  was,  too,"  concluded  the 
man,  wagging  his  head. 

"A  woman?" 

"Yeah,  an'  dressed  up  in  London  clothes,  with  a 
bonnet,  and  a  long  veil  over  her  face.  I  did  n't  take 
no  notice  of  her  at  first,  but  when  the  officer  give  the 
word,  an'  they  strung  the  old  man  up,  she  clutched 
a  rifle  from  a  soldier,  an'  it  took  two  or  three  of 
'em  to  git  it  away  from  her,  an'  when  they  did,  she 
rushed  down  to  the  shore,  jumped  into  a  canoe,  and 
paddled  across  the  river." 


332  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

" Poor  girl !"  muttered  Zach,  "it  was  a  reckless 
thing  to  show  herself  here !  " 

"You  know  her,  boss?" 

"Humph,  no  —  yes  —  that  is  to  say,  perhaps." 

Zach  made  all  imaginable  haste  in  getting  clear 
of  St.  Marks.  Much  to  his  surprise  the  authorities 
discharged  the  schooner  from  arrest,  and  she  was 
suffered  to  sail  away  with  cargo  intact.  Jock,  in- 
capable of  thought  or  action,  depended  like  a  child 
upon  his  friend,  who,  following  the  trader's  direc- 
tions, proceeded  directly  to  Suwanee,  to  recover 
what  they  might  of  their  belongings.  As  before, 
they  had  a  tedious  passage  up  the  river.  Once 
under  way,  Zach  left  the  conduct  of  the  vessel  to 
Jock  and  the  mate.  He  showed  himself  at  once 
agitated  and  preoccupied.  He  walked  the  deck 
for  an  entire  night,  wrestling  with  some  mental 
problem.  After  these  hours  of  thought  he  took  to 
writing.  By  sheer  effort  of  will  he  held  himself 
down  to  the  uncongenial  task.  He  worked  like  a 
blacksmith.  In  the  end  he  tore  up  what  he  had 
written  and  began  all  over  again.  Thus  the  voyage 
passed  in  grinding  toil,  and  after  all,  he  had  nothing 
to  show  for  it  but  the  mass  of  white  paper  scraps 
with  which  he  showered  the  surface  of  the  river. 

Arrived  at  the  site  of  the  Indian  town,  they  found 
a  scene  of  desolation.  Scarcely  a  vestige  remained 
of  a  flourishing  community.  And  the  people,  the 
remnant  of  Bolecks's  followers,  — the  old  men,  the 
women  and  children,  • —  what  had  become  of  them  ? 
The  night  hawk  that  whistled  and  the  screech-owl 
which  hooted  about  their  forsaken  hearthstones 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  333 

could  not  tell ;  there  was  no  voice  in  all  the  forest  to 
answer. 

The  trading-station  had  been  included  in  the  rav- 
age, and  the  spot  was  now  marked  only  by  a  heap 
of  blackened  ruins. 

Here,  close  under  the  steep  bank,  the  schooner 
was  anchored  on  the  night  of  their  arrival.  Next 
day  the  hiding-places  across  the  river  where  they 
had  buried  their  treasure  were  visited,  and  the  con- 
tents found  intact.  Carefully  and  speedily  the  rich 
hoard  of  skins  and  merchandise  was  removed  on 
board  the  schooner.  It  was  the  work  of  forty -eight 
hours,  more  or  less.  The  rest  of  the  crew,  making 
a  holiday  of  the  last  afternoon,  shouldered  their 
rifles  and  went  off  in  search  of  game  to  replenish 
the  ship's  larder,  leaving  Zach  behind  on  guard. 

Alone,  he  betook  himself  again  to  his  writing. 
All  the  long  summer  afternoon  he  scribbled  and 
scratched  away  at  his  mysterious  task,  taking  no 
note  of  the  herald-sounds  of  coming  night :  the  shrill 
song  of  the  hyla  along  the  river  bank,  the  vesper 
chirping  of  the  wild  birds,  and  all  the  countless 
voices  of  the  woods. 

Insensible  to  all  distraction,  he  clung  to  his  ab- 
sorbing task  until  forced  to  stop  by  the  waning  light. 
Then,  getting  up,  he  stretched  his  arms,  rubbed  the 
cramp  out  of  his  hands,  and  lighted  his  pipe. 

Presently,  for  a  bit  of  exercise,  he  climbed  the 
bank  and  wandered  about  the  ruins  of  the  trading- 
station.  Presently,  hearing  a  light  sound  behind, 
he  turned.  There,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  yards,  — 
he  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes,  —  stood  Malee ! 


334  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

She  made  no  move  to  approach  or  speak,  on  being 
discovered,  but  stood  silently  regarding  him. 

Although  she  had  lost  something  of  her  girlish 
roundness  of  outline  so  perfect  a  few  months  before, 
although  the  free,  joyous  confidence  of  those  happy 
days  had  given  place  to  a  wan,  despairing  look,  he 
never  before  so  fully  realized  that,  aside  from  all 
questions  of  age  or  race,  she  was  a  beautiful  woman. 
There  was  now,  moreover,  a  pathetic  interest  attach- 
ing to  her,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  hour  and  place. 

"Malee,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  he  said,  advan- 
cing with  frank  cordiality.  "I  have  been  thinking 
of  you,  and  wondering  how  everything  was  going 
with  you  these  troublous  times." 

The  light  grew  tender  in  the  girl's  eyes  ;  her  face 
took  on  a  look  of  mute  delight  like  that  shown  by  a 
dog  when  caressed  by  his  master,  and  a  flickering 
smile  for  a  moment  played  about  her  lips. 

"Malee  no  friends  now;  all  friends  gone.  Every- 
thing gone." 

"No,  no,"  answered  Zach,  with  a  sturdy  attempt 
at  cheerfulness,  "not  so  bad  as  that.  You  've  had 
a  hard  time  lately,  I  know ;  we  have  all  had  a  hard 
time,  but  we  must  wait  and  hope  for  better  days." 

Malee  stood  unresponsive,  with  downcast  eyes. 

"It  was  bad  work  they  did  here,  there  was  bad 
work  done  over  yonder.  It  will  make  loud  talk 
when  that  war-chief  goes  home." 

"Talk !  " 

Zach  winced  at  the  tone  and  the  sight  of  the  girl's 
curling  lip. 

"Will  it  be  so  loud  to  call  them  back, — him, 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  335 

and  him?  "  indicating  by  appropriate  gestures  her 
father  and  Arbuthnot. 

"No,  they  can't  give  back  the  dead,  and  they 
can  never  wash  out  the  black  guilt  of  their  murder  ! 
Never  !"  repeated  Zach,  sternly.  "It  will  remain 
forever  a  foul  blot  on  the  fame  of  my  country  !  " 

Malee  did  not  speak,  but  stood  with  half -closed 
eyes  watching  the  dying  glow  of  the  sunset  glinting 
through  the  leaves. 

"Wait,  Malee,  wait,  my  poor  girl!  You  have 
friends  among  your  father's  people.  You  have 
slaves  and  cattle  and  lands." 

"No,  no,  no;  all  gone,  people  run  away,  — cattle 
killed,  —  slaves  gone.  All  gone,  empty  here.  No- 
thing but  the  voice  come  back  when  call." 

"Yes,  everything  looks  pretty  black  now.  The 
echoes  are  pretty  loud ;  but  by  and  by,  by  and  by, 
all  will  be  as  it  used  to  be." 

"You  build  up  again  wigwam  here?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  sudden  shrewd  look. 

"No;  he  left  a  talk  for  his  son  to  quit  this  coun- 
try and  go  home." 

Malee  nodded. 

"  But  other  men  will  come,  —  red  men  and  white 
men,  — and  build  a  new  and  better  trading-place." 

The  girl  meditated  several  moments  before  speak- 
ing. 

"Old  man  with  snow-head  wise.  He  say  to  son, 
'Go  away!  '  Nobody  comes  here  again.  The  wild 
fox  and  eagle  shall  have  these  hunting-grounds  of 
Bolecks  and  Ilillishajo." 

"Never  fear,"  broke  in  Zach,  bitterly,  and  for- 


336  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

getful,  as  it  seemed,  of  his  purpose  of  comforting 
the  bereaved  girl.  "Never  fear,  it  will  not  be  left 
long  to  beasts  and  birds.  The  white  robber  will 
come  soon  enough,  and  seize  upon  it,  cut  down  the 
trees,  drive  out  the  wild  fox  and  eagle  as  he  has 
driven  out  the  Indian ;  bring  his  cattle  and  swine, 
build  his  huts,  and  leave  all  as  an  honest  inheritance 
to  his  children.  The  white  men,  my  countrymen, 
will  do  this!" 

"And  the  Great  Spirit  look  down  and  see?  " 

"The  Great  Spirit  shuts  his  eyes  to  a  good  deal 
that  happens  down  here." 

The  girl  nodded,  with  a  look  half  resigned,  half 
cynical,  but  made  no  remark. 

"But,"  continued  Zach,  after  a  prolonged  silence, 
during  which  he  had  explored  the  whole  situation 
for  some  safe  ground  of  solace,  "your  father  has 
many  friends  in  England.  They  loaded  him  with 
gifts  and  honors  when  he  was  there.  If,  now,  they 
knew  of  the  misfortune  of  his  daughter —  Why 
not  write  to  them?  Why  not  go  to  them?" 

"'T  is  long  way.  Out  of  sight;  out  beyond  sun. 
I  no  see.  I  no  send  my  voice  so  far.  Those  good 
men  hear  not  my  cry!  " 

"  Go  to  them,  then !  All  white  men  are  not  like 
these  who  have  been  here.  There  are  white  men 
who  know  how  to  tell  the  truth ;  who  will  not  bully 
the  weak;  who  will  not  strike  a  man  when  he  is 
down;  who  will  not  steal  their  neighbor's  goods. 
You  have  never  seen  this  kind  of  white  man." 

"Yes, — kef"  pointing  towards  the  ruins,  "and 
you." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  337 

"I!  "  Zach  blushed  at  the  direct  and  unexpected 
tribute.  "I  don't  pretend  to  much  goodness,  but 
I  don't  lie  if  I  can  help  it,  and  I  don't  steal  or 
assassinate.  But " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  hallooing  far  off  in  the 
forest.  Malee  started  like  a  deer. 

"'Tis  only  my  friends  coming  home,"  he  said 
quietly,  pointing  towards  the  schooner.  "They 
have  been  shooting." 

Following  the  direction  of  his  finger,  Malee 
seemed  to  note  the  schooner  for  the  first  time. 
Studying  it  attentively  for  several  moments,  she 
suddenly  turned  to  him  and  asked,  — 

"You  go  way?" 

"Yes,  very  soon." 

"Come  back  no  more?" 

"Never." 

There  was  a  swallowing  movement  in  the  girl's 
throat,  and  the  mute,  despairing  appeal  in  her  eyes 
was  heart-moving. 

Very  obtuse  in  the  matter  of  facial  signs,  Zach 
could  not  help  remarking  the  changed  expression. 

"Yes,  Malee,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "I  must 
bid  you  good-by.  There  is  nothing  to  hold  me  here. 
There  is  nothing,  God  knows,  to  bring  me  back. 
But  I  shall  not  forget*  you..  I  shall  never  forget 
that  you  saved  my  life,  perhaps  more  than  once. 
If  you  are  ever  in  trouble,  send  to  me,  and  I  will 
do  my  utmost  to  help  you.  The  best  thing  you 
can  do  now  is  to  follow  your  tribe,  and  join  your 
friends,  and  when  your  grief  wears  itself  out,  you 
will  be  happy  again.  So  once  more,  good-by.  I 


338  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

hope  we  shall  meet  again  in  happier  days  for  both 
of  us." 

The  girl  tried  to  speak,  but  words  would  not 
come.  Her  eyes  fell  before  Zach's  direct,  earnest 
gaze,  and  her  hand  trembled  in  his  clasp. 

The  voices  of  the  returning  hunters  recalled  her 
to  herself.  With  a  sudden  movement  she  carried 
his  hand  to  her  forehead,  held  it  for  a  moment 
pressed  there,  and  then,  without  a  word  or  a  mur- 
mur, fled  away  into  the  recesses  of  the  forest. 

Zach  made  a  movement  as  if  to  recall  her,  but 
restrained,  perhaps,  by  the  approach  of  his  compan- 
ions, turned  back  towards  the  schooner. 

Early  next  morning  they  were  off.  On  the  way 
Zach  busied  himself  again  with  his  writing,  and 
stuck  to  it  so  persistently  that  before  they  arrived 
at  the  Gulf  he  had  finished  his  task. 

Thereupon,  calling  Jock  into  the  cabin,  he  showed 
him  the  result. 

It  was  a  memorial  to  President  Monroe  upon  the 
Seminole  War,  setting  forth  with  force  and  unflinch- 
ing directness  the  facts  and  results  of  that  memo- 
rable campaign.  The  recital  was  reinforced  by 
divers  historical  allusions  and  citations  of  interna- 
tional law,  which  were  lost  upon  the  attentive  lis- 
tener. .  t 

"How  are  you  going  to  send  it?"  asked  Jock, 
almost  breathless  at  such  audacity. 

"I  shall  find  a  way,"  was  the  confident  answer. 

"Will  it  do  any  good?" 

"It  will  tell  them  the  plain  truth,  and  the  whole 
truth,  which  they  are  not  like  to  get  from  any  other 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  339 

source.  The  consequences  then  be  on  their  own 
heads!  I  have  done  all  that  I  can  do." 

Lost  in  wonder  and  admiration,  Jock  sat  by  and 
watched  his  companion  fold  and  seal  the  precious 
instrument.  Their  further  talk  was  interrupted 
by  a  call  from  the  deck. 

Going  up,  they  found  the  mate  trying  to  signal 
an  Indian  on  shore.  The  savage  stood  upon  a 
wooded  headland  which  marks  the  river  bank,  and 
either  did  not  see  or  would  not  heed  them. 

The  mate,  anxious  to  question  the  man  upon  the 
state  of  things  in  and  around  the  Gulf  to  which  they 
were  hastening,  persisted  in  his  signals.  At  last 
the  savage  saw  and  answered.  The  Chance  ran  in 
towards  the  shore  to  find  anchorage.  Zach,  seized 
with  a  sudden  purpose,  rushed  down  again  to  his 
writing  table  and  scratched  off  a  hasty  note  to 
Malee :  — 

DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  have  found  a  messenger,  and 
I  send  you  a  last  word.  It  is  only  to  say  again 
that  I  think  of  you,  and  that  if  I  can  ever  help  you 
I  will.  You  can  write.  You  can  send  me  a  letter 
to  Nassau.  If  I  am  gone,  it  will  come  after  me. 

Good-by  again,  Malee.  Heed  my  words  and  put 
aside  your  grief!  Follow  after  your  father's  people! 
It  is  not  good  to  live  alone.  I  hope  you  will  have 
no  more  trouble.  You  have  had  enough.  I  hope 
you  will  have  a  peaceful  and  happy  life.  Remem- 
ber always  that  I  am  your  friend. 

ZACHARY  PHIPS. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ARRIVED  at  the  Gulf,  the  two  young  traders  be- 
thought them  what  to  do.  Mindful  of  Arbuthnot's 
advice  to  look  first  for  a  market  for  their  goods, 
they  ran  across  to  Pensacola. 

Here  Jock  speedily  came  to  the  fore.  He  showed 
himself  possessed  of  all  his  father's  shrewdness  and 
tact  in  trading.  In  fact,  it  was  at  once  evident  that 
he  was  not  only  born  to  the  business,  but  so  clearly 
superior  to  his  companion  in  this  respect  that  Zach, 
recognizing  his  own  incompetence,  stood  by  staring 
helplessly  at  his  junior's  masterful  management. 

In  the  end  he  took  the  better  part  of  leaving  the 
whole  business  in  Jock's  hands,  and  so,  having  of  a 
morning  rendered  what  help  he  could  in  a  super- 
numerary way,  he  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  went  whistling  off  along  the  docks. 

It  was  when  upon  one  of  these  lounging  expedi- 
tions among  the  shipping  that  his  attention  was  one 
day  drawn  to  a  quarrel  going  on  amongst  a  group 
of  sailors.  The  matter  presently  came  to  blows, 
and  was  fast  developing  into  a  serious  affray,  when 
it  was  effectually  settled  by  a  brawny  peace-maker 
who,  thrusting  himself  between  the  fiercest  of  the 
disputants,  forced  them  apart. 

The  action  of  the  mediator  awoke  certain  remi- 
niscences in  the  idle  looker-on.  He  studied  the  man 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  341 

attentively.  A  look  of  recognition  suddenly  shone 
in  his  face,  and,  lounging  carelessly  up  to  the  stran- 
ger, he  spoke  to  him. 

"Goin'  to  be  a  storm?" 

"Reckon  not." 

"You 're  a  sailor?" 

"Yeah,"  with  a  casual  glance  at  the  questioner. 

"Belong  to  one  of  these  vessels?  " 

"Thet  schooner  yender!"  with  a  wave  of  his 
pipe. 

"From  New  Orleans?" 

"Yeah." 

"Followed  the  sea  a  good  many  years?" 

"Pooty  much  all  my  life." 

"Rather  different  down  here  from  Kennebunk- 
port." 

The  sailor  studied  the  inquisitive  stranger  askance 
before  .answering. 

"I  s'pose  it's  my  Down-East  twang  makes  ye 
guess  I  'm  from  Maine." 

"  Perhaps ;  but  you  have  had  some  river  experi- 
ence, too!  " 

"How  so?" 

"On  the  Mississippi." 

"Eh?  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  was  in  that 
Washita  business?  "  The  sailor  regarded  his  ques- 
tioner more  narrowly.  "I  don't  seem  to  remember 
you." 

"And  then  Lake  Pontchartrain." 

The  man  looked  hopelessly  puzzled  as  he  mut- 
tered, "Yeah,  out  there  to  Falconer's.  But  who  be 
you,  stranger,  anyway?" 


342  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"What  ever  became  of  the  boy  you  had  with 
you?" 

"Wall,  now,  mister,  whoever  ye  be,  ef  ye  'd  tell 
me  thet,  ye  'd  be  doin'  me  the  tallest  kind  of  a 
favor." 

"You  have  lost  track  of  him,  then?  " 

"I'm  drefful  'fraid  I  hev.  Ye  see,  'twas  like 
this :  I  take  it  you  're  a  friend  o'  his'n,  an'  I  '11  jest 
—  wall,  the  fact  o'  the  matter  is,  I  hed  n't  no  busi- 
ness to  'a'  gone  off  the  way  I  did.  But,  ye  see, 
't  was  all-fired  slow  business  for  me,  foolin'  round 
in  thet  pond  in  a  sailboat.  I  stood  it  jest  as  long 
as  I  could,  an'  then  I  swung  loose.  Bub  wanted  to 
go,  but  I  told  him  he  'd  better  hold  hard  to  his  an- 
chor till  I  turned  up  agin.  He  kind  o'  seemed  to 
agree.  But  when,  after  a  spell,  I  got  round  'there 
agin,  he  'd  jest  cut  stick,  an'  I  didn't  blame  him, 
nuther." 

"He  ran  away,  then?" 

"Wall,  I  s'pose  so,  'n'  I  was  cut  up  pooty  bad, 
for  I  'd  got  mighty  fond  o'  Bub  in  my  way,  an'  he 
was  as  likely  a  little  cuss  as  ever  I  see." 

"Then  you  don't  know  what  became  of  him?" 

"Wall,  no,  I  don't.  I  heerd  say  he  went  into 
the  war,  'n'  I  shouldn't  wonder  'f  he  did,  for  he 
was  allers  chock  full  o'  fight." 

"How  old  would  he  be  by  this  time,  if  he  was 
alive?" 

"Man's  size,  I  s'pose,  though  I  can't  seem  to 
think  on  him  'cept  as  a  little  shaver." 

"Should  you  know  him  again?  " 

"The  minit  I  sot  eyes  on  him." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  343 

"He  must  have  changed  a  good  deal  in  all  this 
time." 

"Yeah,  but  ther  's  most  allers  sunthin'  thet  don't 
change.  Oh,  I  should  know  him  fast  enough." 

"Any  mark  about  him  to  swear  by?  " 

"Wall,  he  hed,  but  I  shouldn't  need  no  mark  to 
make  him  out." 

"What  kind  of  a  mark  did  he  have? " 

"One  ther  wasn't  no  danger  o'  his  losin' :  I  tat- 
tooed the  stars  an'  stripes  on  one  o'  his  arms  jest  to 
please  him  one  day,  an' ' 

"Was  it  anything  like  this?"  and  the  questioner 
pulled  up  his  sleeve. 

"  God  A'mighty !  —  you  —  Bub !  ye  don't  mean 
it !  ye  don't  mean  it !  " 

Staring  with  might  and  main,  the  sailor  got  up 
and,  taking  off  Zach's  hat,  stood  back  and  gazed  at 
him  with  wonder  and  delight. 

"Wall,  I  swear!  'T ain't  possible.  I'm  losin' 
my  faculties.  The  idee  o'  your  talkin'  to  me  all 
this  time,  an'  I  not  knowin'." 

"But  you  know  me  now,  eh?  "  cried  Zach,  clasp- 
ing the  horny  hand  in  his  own. 

"Know  ye !  I  dunno.  I  won't  swear  to  any  thin' 
no  longer.  Gorry,  it  beats  every  thin'  all  holler, 
the  way  ye  hev  changed !  " 

"How  so?" 

"Wall,  I  dunno.  I  dunno  as  I  can  describe  it. 
It 's  a  kind  o'  eddicated  look." 

"I  hope  that  hasn't  spoiled  me." 

"No,  no-o,"  repeated  Sandy  reflectively,  "you  've 
turned  out  a  good  deal  harnsomer  man  'n'  I  ever 


344  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

thought  ye 'd  be.  Ye  war  n't  no  great  to  look  at 
when  ye  was  a  little  shaver." 

Zach  laughed. 

"But  where  ye  ben,  an'  what  ye  ben  doin'  of? 
Ye  ain't  follerin'  the  sea  no  longer,  I  reckon?" 

Zach  good-naturedly  told  his  story,  which  was 
listened  to  with  open-mouthed  interest.  When  he 
came  to  describe  the  visit  to  Boston,  to  his  great 
surprise,  Sandy  suddenly  jumped  up  and  strode  off 
towards  the  schooner  without  a  word. 

After  an  absence  of  fully  five  minutes,  he  came 
back  muttering,  — 

"I  sh'd  never  'a'  thought  of  it  aginef  you  hedii't 
happened  to  say  'Boston.'  I  've  hed  it  quite  a  spell 
now,  an'  tucked  it  away  under  my  things  so  't 
shouldn't  git  lost,  an'  jest  forgot  all  about  it. 
Wall,  never  mind,  ther  's  no  harm  done.  Here  ye 
be,  at  last,  an'  here  't  is  for  ye  to  read!  " 

Saying  these  words  he  handed  Zach  an  old  and 
somewhat  crumpled  newspaper,  and  pointed  with 
his  bronzed  forefinger  to  the  following  passage :  — 

"Information  is  wanted  of  the  whereabouts  of 
Zachary  Phips,  son  of  Obadiah  Phips,  late  of  this 
town  and  commonwealth,  deceased.  When  last 
heard  from,  he  had  enlisted  on  board  the  United 
States  frigate  Chesapeake,  and  it  is  supposed  he  was 
among  the  survivors  of  her  crew  taken  by  the  Shan- 
non to  Halifax.  Communicate  with  Mrs.  Obadiah 
Phips,  Boston,  Mass." 

Although  this  sudden  news  of  his  father's  death 
was  a  shock  to  Zach,  it  was  not  accompanied  by 
any  deep  feeling  of  grief,  or  sense  of  personal  be- 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  345 

reavement.  His  father  had  never  been  a  companion 
to  him ;  he  had  hardly  seemed  a  friend.  Thus  the 
only  permanent  effect  of  the  announcement  was  a 
vague  feeling  of  loneliness  attendant  upon  the 
thought  that  the  only  human  being  who  had  cared 
for  hini  in  the  place  of  his  birth  was  gone. 

He  remained  silent  for  several  minutes  after  read- 
ing the  item,  grinding  his  boot-heel  into  the  moist 
sand  and  trying  to  realize  the  effect  of  the  affliction 
on  the  family  in  Salutation  Alley.  Presently  he 
picked  up  the  newspaper,  looked  at  the  date,  and 
slowly  read  the  passage  again. 

"I  suppose  it 's  on  account  of  the  property,"  he 
said  at  last,  falling  unconsciously  into  his  old  confi- 
dential tone  with  Sandy. 

"Was  he  wuth  consid'ble?"  asked  Sandy,  with 
the  New  England  instinct. 

"No,  oh,  no-o;  nothing  to  speak  of.  Yet,"  he 
concluded,  with  a  little  hardening  of  the  eye  and 
compression  of  the  lips,  "whatever  he  did  leave,  I 
s'pose  I  've  a  right  to  my  share." 

"Yes;  an'  yer  step-inarm  can't  divide  things  up 
tell  they  know  what 's  become  of  ye,  — thet  's  whar 
the  shoe  pinches;  't  was  her  put  that  in." 

"1  suppose  so." 

"She  won't  die  o'  disapp'intment,  Bub,  ef  ye 
don't  turn  up  at  all." 

"Why  should  I  disappoint  her  by  turnin'  up? 
Let  her  keep  what  there  is !  There  '11  be  hardly  a 
bite  apiece  for  her  and  her  chicks.'* 

"Wall,  now,  Bub,  look  here!  "  said  Sandy,  cutting 
up  a  charge  for  his  pipe  and  assuming  his  old  part 


346  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

of  mentor,  "thet  's  all  pooty  talk  enough,  but  don't 
you  never  do  nothin'  in  the  dark !  Find  out  what 
ye  got,  'fore  ye  go  givin'  on  't  away !  " 

"You're  wasting  sound  wisdom  on  this  case, 
skipper;  there's  nothing  in  it  worth  talking  or 
thinking  of,  I  assure  you." 

"Ye  dunno,  ye  dunno  nothin'  'bout  it.  Mebbe 
the  old  man  hed  laid  up  a  little  sunthin',  an'  ef  he 
has,  take  my  advice  an'  hang  on  to  your  share  on  't. 
For  it 's  ben  my  experience,"  continued  Sandy, 
lighting  his  well-packed  pipe,  "that  a  little  penny 
extry  comes  in  mighty  handy  now  an'  then,  an' 
nobody  knows  the  day  when  he  's  agoin'  to  get  ship- 
wrecked or  cast  away;  an'  the'  ain't  no  better  friend 
in  sech  a  case  than  a  wad  in  yer  stockin'  heel." 

"Guess  you're  'bout  right,  skipper,"  said  Zach 
absently. 

"Wall,  I  be,  Bub,  ef  I  do  say  it.  It 's  all  wall 
enough  to  lean  on  the  Lord  an'  yer  neighbors  when 
ye  ain't  got  no  other  backboard,  but  for  gittin'  out 
of  a  real  scrape,  giv'  me  a  han'fid  of  hard  dollars ! 
So,  my  advice  to  you  is,  git  up  there  an'  see  how 
things  be;  the  old  man  may  'a'  made  a  will." 

Zach  listened  to  this  advice  all  the  more  readily 
that  it  jibed  so  completely  with  certain  of  his  own 
recent  theories.  Taking  a  suggestion  from  the  skip- 
per's words,  he  went  on  making  out  a  mental  bal- 
ance sheet  of  his  belongings,  and  became  not  a  little 
interested  and  excited  at  the  probable  sum  total. 
First,  there  was  his  share  of  the  peltry  due  him  from 
Arbuthnot's  estate  on  account  of  wages.  Next  the 
money  he  had  given  his  father  to  invest,  which  he 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  347 

had  well-nigli  forgotten.  Then  there  was  prize- 
money  still  due  him  from  the  Government  on  ac- 
count of  the  vessel  which  Burr  had  libeled.  And 
lastly,  here  was  this  windfall  of  a  few  dollars  from 
his  father. 

The  array  of  items  was  impressive,  and  he  already 
felt  a  stirring  of  greed  within  him,  —  a  new  sensa- 
tion. 

While  absorbed  in  these  exciting  calculations  he 
was  conscious  that  Sandy  had  been  talking,  and  now 
tardily  awoke  to  the  fact  that  the  skipper  had  been 
giving  him  an  account  of  his  experiences  since  they 
parted. 

"And  so  you  are  still  before  the  mast?  "  broke  in 
Zach  at  last,  with  a  show  of  interest. 

"Not  jest  exactly." 

"You  are  mate,  then?  " 

"I  used  ter  be." 

"What!  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you're  a 
captain  ?  "  cried  Zach  incredulously. 

"Wall,  why  not?"  asked  Sandy,  with  a  shame- 
faced look. 

"Nothing  —  a  —  of  course,  only  I "  — 

"Only  ye  didn't  ever  'spect  I'd  turn  out  any- 
thin'.  Wall,  Bub,  nuther  did  I;  but  ye  see,  I  bed 
a  streak  o'  luck  durin'  the  war.  I  got  out  the  fust 
big  load  o'  cotton  that  sailed  out  er  Noo  Orleans 
arter  the  proclamation,  'n'  I  made  a  little  heap 
out  on  't.  Then  a  fit  took  me.  I  know'd  ther 
wouldn't  be  a  continental  cent  o'  that  money  left 
inside  a  fortnit  ef  't  stayed  in  my  britches,  an'  't 
jest  happened  so  't  haaf  this  schooner  was  for  sale, 


348  ZACHARY  P1IIPS. 

an'  I  up  an'  bought  it,  an'  —  oh,  wall,  't  ain't 
nothin'  ter  speak  of,  anyway.  I " 

"So,"  interrupted  Zach,  in  unmeasured  astonish- 
ment, "you're  not  only  a  skipper  but  a  ship-owner 
to  boot?  " 

"Wall,  '£  ye  like  ter  put  it  thet  way,"  said  Sandy, 
scratching  his  head  awkwardly  for  by -play,  "I 
s'pose  I  be." 

Zach  was  suddenly  seized  with  an  idea. 

"You  can  go  where  you  like,  then?" 

"I  don't  see  nothin'  ter  hender." 

"And  when  you  like?  " 

"Ginerally  speakin'." 

"At  present  you  are  going  back  to  New  Or- 
leans?" 

"Soon  ez  I  git  loaded." 

" I  '11  go  with  you." 

"The  devil  ye  will!  Wall,  now,  thet  '11  be  — I 
vum,  thet  '11  seem  kind  o'  like  old  times !  " 

"I  can  take  along  my  skins,"  continued  Zach, 
talking,  as  it  seemed,  to  himself,  "and  ship  them 
to  London  as  well  from  New  Orleans  as  from  Nas- 
sau, and,  in  fact,  much  better.  I  have  nothing  to 
take  me  back  there,  why  should  I  go?"  He  con- 
tinued his  speculations  mentally,  as  he  paced  up  and 
down  among  the  litter  of  freight  on  the  dock. 

"Wall,  wall,  wall, "continued  Sandy,  still  revolv- 
ing the  good  news.  "Who'd  'a'  thought!  The 
idee  o'  findin'  of  ye  here,  when  I  ben  on  the  look- 
out all  these  years,  an'  hed  jest  about  gin  it  up  as 
a  bad  bargain! " 

Zach,  still  busy  with  his  private  speculations,  did 
not  answer. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  349 

"Shouldn't  wonder  ef  we  could  git  off  to-mor- 
rer,  the  way  things  look  now,"  continued  Sandy, 
with  a  glance  over  at  the  schooner.  "When  can 
ye  come  aboard?" 

"Humph,  I  don't  know.  I'm  afraid  I  was  a 
little  hasty  about  that.  I  didn't  think  what  I  was 
saying.  It  begins  to  look  as  if  I  should  have  to  go 
to  Nassau  after  all." 

The  skipper's  face  fell,  and  he  did  not  speak  for 
several  minutes. 

"Wall,  now,  Bub,"  he  began  presently,  with  a 
look  of  dejection,  "I  kind  o'  wish  I  hedn't  met  ye; 
it 's  my  luck  all  over.  I  might  'a'  know'd  what  to 
expect.  I  went  on  like  a  fool  an'  got  things  all 
planned  out.  But  this  ere  knocks  the  bottom  right 
out  o'  everythin' !  " 

"Eh?  How  is  that?"  asked  Zach,  awaking  to 
his  friend's  disappointment. 

"  Why,  ye  'd  got  this  ere  business  in  Boston  to 
'tend  to,  an'  there's  no  two  ways  about  it,  you'd 
oughter  go;  an'  I  thought  as  I 'd  jest  agreed  with 
that  Frenchman  "  — 

"Monsieur?" 

"The  little  lawyer  't  used  ter  come  out  to  the 
lake.  Wall,  seem'  as  I  'd  kind  o'  agreed  to  take 
him  up  ter  the  Chesapeake  when  he  goes  to  Wash- 
ington"— 

"  Eh  ?     He  is  going  to  Washington  ? ' ' 

"Yeah,  on  this  business  o'  Falconer's." 

"What  business?"  with  awakening  interest. 

"'Bout  the  damage  done  ter  the  plantation. 
'Twas  pooty  d — d  nigh  spilt,  thet  prop'ty  —  I 


350  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

never  see  sech  a  sight.  Wall,  the  little  lawyer  he  's 
ben  at  it  two  or  three  years  'thout  doin'  much. 
Now  he  's  startin'  in  agin,  sence  Falconer  was  here." 

"When  was  that?"  was  the  eager  question. 

"Two  or  three  months  ago,  I  sh'd  think;  I  don't 
jest  remember.  But  they  didn't  stay  long.  It 
made  'em  kind  o'  homesick,  I  guess,  so  he  'n'  the 
little  gal  went  off  ter  London  an'  left "  — 

"  Sylvia,  —  was  she  here  ?  " 

"Yeah,  she  was;  an'  she's  grow'd  to  look  harn- 
some  as  a  picter,  jest  like  "  — 

"How  do  you  know  they  went  to  London?"  in- 
terrupted the  listener  again. 

"It  must  'a'  ben  the  lawyer  't  told  me,  'n'  he 
said  he  reckoned  they  'd  gone  for  good  this  time. 
Ye  see  I  got  pooty  wall  acquainted  with  the  Square, 
'cause  he  draw'd  the  docyments  fer  me  when  I 
bought  the  schooner." 

"Sandy,"  said  Zach,  suddenly  stopping  in  his 
walk,  "I  've  changed  my  mind  again." 

"Ye  don't  say!" 

"I  've  concluded  to  go  with  you,  after  all." 

"Hooray.  Wall,  a  weather-cock 's  a  fool  to  you, 
Bub,  for  gittin'  round;  but  ye 're  pintin'  in  the 
right  direction  this  time,  an'  it  means  fair  weather, 
an'  no  squalls,  or  I  'm  mistaken." 

"And  now,"  said  Zach,  making  a  move  to  go,  "I 
will  be  with  you  again  as  soon  as  possible.  I  have 
to  settle  up  affairs  with  young  Mr.  Arbuthnot ;  but 
it  cannot  take  us  long,  and  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
we  may  be  off  to-morrow." 

Zach  had,   in  effect,  no  difficulty  in  making  an 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  351 

amicable  settlement  with  Jock,  who,  however  reluc- 
tant to  part  with  him,  could  offer  no  reasonable  ob- 
jection to  his  going.  Whereupon,  a  balance  having 
been  struck,  Zach  had  his  skins  conveyed  on  board 
the  "Malviny,"  —  Sandy's  schooner, — and  bade  a 
reluctant  adieu  to  the  Chance  and  her  owner. 

Moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  at  the  last  moment  he 
called  back  to  Jock,  — 

"Send  all  letters  for  me  to  Boston!  " 

The  "Malviny  "  got  away  the  same  afternoon,  and 
her  skipper,  as  was  only  too  evident,  could  hardly 
contain  himself  for  joy.  He  was  heard  several 
times  unmistakably  singing  to  himself,  and  on  some 
slight  and  quite  inadequate  occasion  burst  into  a 
loud  guffaw,  which  startled  the  entire  crew. 

By  degrees  he  grew  composed,  and  when  they 
were  fairly  out  of  sight  of  land,  settled  himself 
on  deck  with  a  freshly -lighted  pipe  and  astonished 
his  passenger  by  saying,  — 

"As  I  was  telliii'  ye,  — ye  'member,  when  we  got 
interrupted  t'  other  day,  —  I'd  agreed  to  take  the 
little  Square  up  to  the  Chesapeake  "  — 

"Yes,"  said  Zach,  idly  wondering  what  was  com- 
ing. 

"Wall,  I  was  a-thinkin'  that  as  ye 'd  got  this 
business  up  north,  an'  we  sh'd  be  haaf-way  up  any- 
way, I  'd  better  jest  take  on  a  load  o'  cotton  an' 
run  up  to  Boston  'n'  done  with  it." 

Zach  stared,  as  well  he  might.  He  had  the  air  of 
having  quite  forgotten  Boston  and  his  errand  in 
that  town. 

"Could  you  make  the  trip  pay?" 


352  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

"No  trouble  'bout  that.  Cotton  is  ez  good  ez 
gold,  an'  the  Yankees  never  git  enough  on  't." 

Zach  loaded  his  own  pipe  and  pondered  the 
matter. 

"You  are  going  to  take  Monsieur  in  any  case?" 

"Yeah." 

"And  the  Chesapeake  is  half-way  up?" 

"Thereabouts." 

"What  could  you  get  for  a  return  cargo?  " 

"Oh,  the  Yankees  make  a  million  o'  things  thet 
we  want, — boots  an'  shoes,  clo'es,  tools,  machin- 
ery, dry  goods,  — never  you  fear  'bout  thet." 

"  Well,  Sandy,  if  you  're  willing  to  take  the  risk, 
I  don't  see  as  I  can  do  any  better  than  go  with  you." 

"Jest  what  I  thought,"  said  the  skipper,  and 
thereupon  burst  into  another  guffaw,  so  quite  inap- 
propriate, as  it  seemed,  to  anything  that  had  been 
said,  that  Zach  looked  at  him  with  a  momentary 
misgiving. 

Within  a  fortnight,  accordingly,  the  "Malviny" 
sailed  out  of  the  port  of  New  Orleans  on  her  way 
northward. 

Zach  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to 
renew  his  acquaintance  with  Monsieur,  and  enjoyed 
to  the  full  the  little  lawyer's  amazement  at  the 
change  which  had  taken  place  in  his  old  pupil.  In 
the  course  of  their  many  conversations  he  related  in 
part  his  experiences,  and  making  known  the  nature 
of  his  present  errand  to  Boston,  failed  not  to  take 
the  advice  of  the  little  attorney  upon  his  rights  and 
obligations. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  353 

But  Zach  had,  it  appears,  another  purpose  with 
regard  to  Monsieur,  for,  on  parting  with  his  old 
friend  at  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac,  he  brought 
forth  his  memorial,  and  without  any  unnecessary 
explanation  as  to  its  subject-matter,  begged  him  to 
see  that  it  was  safely  delivered.  At  a  time  when  a 
large  part  of  the  mail-matter  was  carried  by  private 
hand,  Monsieur  found  nothing  unusual  in  the 
request,  and  readily  undertook  the  commission. 

Thence  northward  the  voyage  was  without  event. 
The  "Malviny"  duly  and  safely  arrived  in  Boston, 
where  Sandy,  on  landing  his  passenger,  charged 
him  to  still  consider  the  schooner  his  headquarters. 

For  reasons  of  his  own,  Zach's  first  care  was  to 
visit  a  tailor,  and  it  was  not  until  after  a  week's 
delay,  and  then  in  a  suit  of  fresh  mourning,  with 
immaculate  linen,  hat,  and  shoes,  that  he  wended 
his  way  to  Salutation  Alley. 

He  found  his  former  home  deserted,  and  on  the 
door  a  staring  placard  saying,  — 

"To  Let." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

TURNING  away  from  the  door  of  his  old  home  in 
Salutation  Alley  with  a  baffled  feeling,  Zach  mechan- 
ically wandered  around  to  the  malthouse.  Prepared 
now  for  changes,  he  was  nevertheless  shocked  at  the 
state  of  things  there.  The  old  building  was  not 
only  empty  and  disused,  but  in  a  tumble-down  con- 
dition. The  ridge-pole  had  slumped,  the  chimneys 
looked  like  incoherent  heaps  of  brick,  the  clap- 
boards were  loose  and  flapping,  the  front  steps  had 
fallen,  the  window-panes  were  broken,  while  the  spa- 
cious yard  was  strewn  with  a  litter  of  old  casks, 
boards,  and  rusty  kettles,  interspersed  with  a  riot- 
ous crop  of  plantain  and  wormwood. 

It  was  a  dismal  spectacle,  and  filled  the  beholder 
with  an  intolerable  feeling  of  homesickness.  For 
here  had  centred  his  dearest  remembrances,  here, 
escaped  from  his  step-mother's  oversight,  his  hap- 
piest childhood's  hours  had  been  passed. 

Hurrying  away,  he  took  the  nearest  turn  and 
came  into  Hanover  Street.  With  no  thought  of  his 
course,  he  wandered  on  towards  the  water-side,  re- 
viving boyish  recollections  at  every  step. 

Coming  to  the  Methodist  meeting-house  he  noted 
that  the  windows  were  open,  and  that  there  was  a 
sound  of  somebody  moving  within.  Directly,  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  here  he  might  perhaps  learn  the 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  355 

whereabouts  of  Mrs.  Becky,  who  had  been  so  long 
a  communicant  of  the  society. 

He  went  in.  Here,  at  least,  everything  was  un- 
changed. The  square-edged  mahogany  pulpit,  the 
bare  white  walls,  the  Gothic  peaks  in  which  the  tall 
green  window-blinds  ended,  the  unmitigated  white 
parallelogram  of  a  ceiling  with  the  same  old  water- 
stain  in  the  right-hand  corner,  which  in  boyish  fancy 
he  used  to  resolve  into  pictures  of  wild-beasts  fight- 
ing, or  a  shipwreck  at  sea,  —  how  many  weary  times 
he  had  studied  these  loathed  details  during  the  hours 
of  his  forced  attendance  in  the  days  gone  by  ? 

He  found  the  sexton  —  a  commonplace  young 
man  —  dusting  the  pews.  He  was  disappointed 
that  it  was  not  the  old  official  whose  severe  eye  had 
filled  him  with  such  awe  when  a  boy.  Uncon- 
sciously he  had  been  thirsting  for  years  for  an  op- 
portunity of  bullying  that  once -dreaded  functionary 
and  squaring  the  old  account. 

Inquiring  for  Mrs.  Becky,  he  heard  to  his  aston- 
ishment that  the  family  had  long  since  moved  to  a 
farm  in  a  neighboring  town,  where  Mr.  Phips  had 
ended  his  days. 

Getting  precise  directions,  Zach  went  to  the  near- 
est tavern,  hired  a  horse  and  wagon,  and  set  off  in 
search  of  his  step-mother.  Mrs.  Becky's  residence, 
long  since  taken  in  and  swallowed  up  by  the  spread- 
ing metropolis  of  to-day,  was  then  in  the  wide,  wild 
country.  Zach  duly  rolled  up  to  the  door,  after  an 
hour's  drive  through  a  pleasant  winding  turnpike. 

A  new  set  of  surprises  awaited  him,  beside  which 
those  of  the  morning  seemed  second-rate.  First 


356  ZACHABT  PHIPS. 

and  foremost  there  was  the  spacious  house,  almost 
manorial  in  appearance,  the  comfortable  barns  and 
outhouses,  and  the  air  of  thrift  prevailing.  Going 
in,  his  wonder  grew,  for  the  large  rooms,  although 
plainly  furnished,  seemed  sumptuous  beside  the  bare 
and  pinched  interior  of  Salutation  Alley. 

A  young  woman  received  him  whom  he  did  not 
recognize,  presumably  one  of  his  half -sisters. 

Mrs.  Becky  kept  him  waiting  for  a  full  quarter 
of  an  hour.  She  had  chosen  for  some  reason  to 
make  a  toilet,  and  appeared  in  a  black  gown  and 
weeds.  His  first  impression  was  that  she  had  aged 
a  good  deal.  Her  thin  hair  was  brushed  tightly 
away  under  her  cap,  her  skin  had  withered,  the  lines 
in  her  face  had  deepened,  and  the  old-time  expres- 
sion of  rectitude  had  become  confirmed.  Withal 
her  whole  bearing  suggested  an  attitude  towards  the 
world  of  disapproving  sufferance. 

Offering  her  chill  and  bony  palm  to  Zach,  she 
said  in  a  tone  conscientiously  meant  to  be  friendly,  — 

"I  did  n't  know  's  we  'd  ever  see  ye  agin." 

Finding  nothing  appropriate  to  say  to  this,  Zach 
cleared  his  throat  and  resumed  his  seat. 

"I  did  kind  o'  hope  ye  might  come  home  'fore 
yer  father  died.  He  set  a  good  deal  by  ye,  for  all " 
—  Mrs.  Becky  hesitated  for  a  word  —  "the  way 
things  has  gone,  an'  he  spoke  of  ye  two  or  three  times 
towards  the  last,  —  seemed  to  hev  ye  on  his  mind. 
'T  was  nateral,  I  s'pose,  bein'  as  things  hev  been, 
you  away  from  home  so,  an'  no  knowin'  where  you 
was,  or  whether  or  no  ye  'd  ever  come  back." 

"How  long  has  he  been  dead?  "  asked  Zat-h  with 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  357 

the  intent  of  giving  the  talk  a  turn  rather  than  a 
change. 

"  He  passed  away  in  December  —  the  5th  of  De- 
cember, 'bout  half  past  three  in  themornin'.  I  was 
with  him,  an'  when  I  see  the  change  a-comin'  I 
stepped  to  the  door  an'  called  the  children.  One 
of  the  neighbors  was  settin'  up  with  him  that  night, 
an'  he  helped  to  lay  him  out." 

"How  long  was  he  sick?  " 

"Wall,  he  was  what  ye  might  call  breakin'  up 
for  three  months  more  or  less.  He  's  never  ben  jest 
the  same  sence  he  giv'  up  business,  but  he  did  n't 
seem  to  suffer  no  gret,  though  it  come  pooty  sudden 
at  the  last." 

"  Did  he  leave  any  word  or  message  for  me  ?  " 

"No,  I  dunno  's  he  did,  beyond,  as  I  said,  men- 
tionin'  yer  name.  I  don't  seem  to  remember  any- 
thin'  pertickler.  He  war  n't  sure,  an'  we  never  hev 
ben,  't  you  was  alive,  for  one  thing,  an'  then  I  dunno 
as  he  hed  any  thin'  pertickler  to  say ;  he  war  n't  no 
gret  of  a  talker  anyway." 

"  How  long  since  he  gave  up  business  ?  " 

"In  the  neighborhood  o'  two  years,  I  should  say; 
it  might  be  more;  my  memory  ain't  what  it  was." 

"You  have  moved?  " 

"  Yis  —  a  —  ahem  — -  we  hev  "  —  the  sentence  con- 
cluded as  if  bitten  off  to  cut  short  some  comment  on 
the  tongue. 

"It 's  rather  strange  father  should  have  taken  up 
farming  so  late  in  life." 

"Wall,  't  war  n't  exactly  matter-of  -choice.  He 
traded  for  the  farm,  an'  bed  it  on  his  bands,  an'  — 


358  ZACHARY  rmps. 

the  long  an'  short  of  it  is  't  was  cheaper  livin'  out 
here,  an'  gin  us  more  room;  so  on  the  whole  it 
seemed  the  best  thing  to  do." 

There  was  a  pause.  Either  Zach's  curiosity  was 
satisfied,  or  he  felt  an  embarrassment  about  going 
on.  Both  evidently  realized  that  the  serious  part  of 
their  interview  was  to  come.  Mrs.  Becky  folded 
a  hem  in  the  edge  of  her  already  nicely-hemmed 
apron  and  basted  it  with  an  imaginary  needle, 
while  Zach  followed  with  his  toe  a  red  strand  in 
the  braided  rag-mat. 

"  'D  ye  see  the  notice  I  put  in  the  paper?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Becky  at  last,  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns. 

"It  was  shown  to  me." 

"  I  did  n't  hev  no  gret  faith  in  it,  but  they  told  me 
to  do  it,  and  so  I  did.  You  can't  ever  tell,  these 
days,  how  a  thing  '11  turn  out.  Ye  come  home  a 
purpose,  I  s'pose?" 

"Mainly;  though  I  had  a  good  chance  to  come, 
or  perhaps  I  shouldn't." 

"Wall,  't  was  right  you  should  know,  an'  it's 
the  law,  besides,  so  Square  Thompson  says,  an'  I 
b'lieve  in  hevin'  things  settled,  so  't  they  '11  stay 
settled." 

"Square  Thompson  told  you  to  advertise,  then." 

"Yis." 

"He  's  attending  to  the  business,  I  suppose." 

"Yis,  he  is." 

"Did  father  —  er  "  —  the  sentence  was  broken  by 
an  embarrassed  little  cough  —  "make  a  will? " 

"Wall,  yis,  he  did.  We  didn't  any  on  us  know 
nothin'  'bout  it,  though,  tell  afterwards.  Obadiah 


ZACHAEY  PIIIPS.  359 

was  a  close  man.  A  gret  deal  closer  than  /'d  any 
idee  of.  He  kept  things  to  himself.  Nobody  ever 
know'd  any  thin'  'bout  his  business  's  long  as  he 
lived.  He  had  a  way  o'  pertendin'  not  to  hear  ef  ye 
ast  any  questions,  an'  for  my  part  I  allers  s'posed 
we  was  poor  as  Job's  turkey." 

Mrs.  Becky  smoothed  out  her  puckered  apron 
with  an  impatient  sweep  of  her  hand,  and  her  tone 
acquired  a  touch  of  acerbity  as  she  proceeded. 

"Folks  has  their  failin's,  an'  we  hev  to  take  'em 
as  we  find  'em.  We  all  hev  enough  to  answer  for 
in  the  long  run;  but 's  my  way  to  hev  everythin' 
open  an'  aboveboard  as  I  go  along,  an'  so  ther 
won't  be  nothin'  to  come  out  at  the  end.  They  say 
't  ye  oughtn't  to  say  anythin'  agin  them  't  hes 
passed  away,  but  I  don't  think  Obadiah  done  right, 
an'  I  never  shall;  an'  't  ain't  no  wuss  to  *say  it 
than  't  is  to  think  it.  I  should  'a'  managed  a  good 
deal  diff'rent  ef  I  'd  know'd  how  things  was  gon'  to 
turn  out." 

Noting  the  growing  look  of  curiosity  in  her 
listener's  face,  Mrs.  Becky  hastened  to  add,  — 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  't  he  hes  left  any  gret,  any- 
way, but  he  'd  allers  talked  so  discouragin'  thet  I  'd 
made  up  my  mind  thet 't  would  be  nip  an'  tuck  ef 
we  didn't  hev  to  go  on  the  town." 

"I  am  glad  if  he  has  left  you  comfortable." 

"Th'  ain't  nobody  any  gladder  V  I  be.  The 
laborer  's  worthy  o'  his  hire,  an'  I  done  my  share  o' 
hard  work  ever  sence  I  took  hold.  I  don't  want  ye 
to  think,  though,  't  'mounts  to  sech  an  awful  sight, 
seem'  as  there  's  five  on  us  to  parcel  it  up,  'thout 
c6untin'  in  you." 


360  ZACIIAEY  PHIPS. 

Mingled  with  his  growing  curiosity  Zach  was 
conscious  of  another  feeling  in  connection  with  the 
matter  under  discussion,  which  he  could  not  analyze. 

Turning  a  watchful  eye  upon  her  visitor,  Mrs. 
Becky  proceeded,  but  with  a  marked  hesitation. 

"Ef  what  he  left  ain't  divided  up  as  —  well,  as 
some  on  us  might  'a'  liked,  all  I  can  say  is,  he  did 
it  himself,  an'  he  did  as  he  thought  right,  I  s'pose. 
'T  any  rate,"  she  concluded,  in  a  tone  as  it  seemed 
almost  defiant,  which  jarred  upon  her  listener's  ear, 
"he  never  hed  no  hints  from  me,  nor  any  o'  my 
family.  A  man  never  does  make  a  will  to  suit  other 
folks,  I  s'pose." 

Busy  with  speculations  over  the  significance  of 
some  of  Mrs.  Becky's  tones  and  inflections,  Zach 
did  not  answer. 

"Yftu  ain't  merried,  be  ye?  "  demanded  his  step- 
mother, after  a  pause. 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"Oh,  there,  I  most  forgot.  I  knew  ther  was 
sumthin'."  She  rose,  went  into  the  hall,  and  came 
back  with  a  stout  walking-stick  having  a  gnarled 
root  handle. 

"There,"  she  said,  handing  it  to  Zach,  "he  used 
thet  a  sight.  I  ben  a-keepin'  it.  Thought  ye 
might  like  it  for  a  keepsake.  He  didn't  leave 
much  o'  anythin'  o'  thet  sort  wuth  givin'  away." 

Zach  took  the  cane  and  got  up  to  go. 

"You  ain't  a-goin'?  Why,  I  —  er  —  ther 's  an- 
other thing  I  wanted  to  say.  Set  down  a  minute  ! 
I  —  er" —  The  widow  cleared  her  throat,  and 
braced  herself  as  if  against  any  recurring  qualms  or 
hesitation. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  361 

"It's  'bout  the  business:  I  s'pose  the  sooner 
thet  's  'tended  to  the  better." 

Zach  nodded. 

"  I  dunno  as  I  told  ye.  I  'm  appointed  the  execu- 
trix in  the  will,  but  thet  don't  make  no  odds;  it 
don't  make  me  responsible  for  what 's  in  it.  All  I 
got  to  do  is  to  carry  it  out  jest  as  it 's  sot  down. 
As  long  as  I  hed  n't  nothin'  to  do  with  makin'  it,  I 
hain't  got  no  apologies  to  make  for  what 's  in  it." 

The  indefinable  feeling  which  Zach  had  found 
difficulty,  a  few  minutes  before,  in  analyzing,  now 
developed  into  a  very  positive  and  uncomfortable 
misgiving. 

"Square  Thompson  drawed  the  will,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Becky,  "an'  he  's  got  a  copy  on  it.  He  used 
to  be  his  lawyer,  p'rhaps  you  remember?  " 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"Wall,  he  did;  an'  as  I  say,  he  drawed  the  will, 
an'  ef  anybody  knows  anythin'  'bout  Obadiah's 
reasons  for  makin'  it,  he  doos.  So  't,  for  all  I  can 
see,  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  go  to  the 
Square's  office  in  town,  tell  him  who  ye  be,  an' 
he  '11  gin  it  to  ye  to  read,  an'  tell  ye  anythin'  ye 
want  to  know." 

Rising  again  to  go,  Zach  received  a  halting  offer 
of  hospitality,  which  he  thought  proper  to  decline. 

The  interview  on  the  whole  proved  so  fruitful  of 
suggestions  and  impressions  that  he  never  knew  how 
he  got  home,  and  only  fairly  awoke  to  things  about 
him  when,  settled  with  his  pipe  on  board  the  "Mal- 
viny,"  he  was  called  to  give  an  account  of  himself 
by  the  impatient  Sandy. 


362  ZACH ART  PHIPS. 

"Wall,  Bub,  what  kind  o'  a  tussle  'd  ye  hev 
with  yer  step-marm?  Is  the  old  lady  as  up-an'-a- 
comin'  as  she  used  to  be?" 

Next  day  Zach  went  to  see  Squire  Thompson. 
Having  learned  the  name  and  business  of  his  visitor, 
the  wrinkled  old  attorney  eyed  him  with  a  truly 
provincial  curiosity,  while,  having  brought  out  a 
dusty  black  box  studded  with  tarnished  brass  nails, 
he  fumbled  among  its  contents  for  Obadiah  Phips's 
last  will  and  testament. 

Having  at  last  received  the  document,  Zach  seated 
himself  at  the  window  with  averted  face  to  read  it. 
As  he  eagerly  scanned  page  after  page,  written  in 
Squire  Thompson's  clear  but  crabbed  hand,  his 
wonder  grew  apace.  At  last  the  real  Obadiah 
Phips  stood  revealed.  Clearly  now  it  appeared  that 
the  henpecked  little  maltster  had  led  a  life  of  his 
own,  —  a  life  within  a  life,  enriched  by  unsuspected 
passions,  enjoyments,  resources.  Mrs.  Becky  had 
been  suffered  to  rule  the  roast  in  Salutation  Alley, 
—  a  sordid,  contemptible  little  roast,  —  without  let 
or  hindrance,  while  her  triumphant  spouse  rolled  up 
his  golden  hoard  and  hugged  to  his  heart  the  con- 
sciousness of  growing  power.  The  petty  tyranny 
of  his  hearthstone  was  richly  atoned  for  by  hours  of 
bliss  spent  at  the  dingy  little  desk  in  the  cobwebby 
corner  of  the  malthouse. 

Mrs.  Becky's  undertone  of  irritation  in  speaking 
of  the  defunct  now  became  explicable.  She  could 
not  forgive  having  been  left  out  of  the  secret.  She 
could  not  forgive  Obadiah's  posthumous  triumph. 

In  his  amazement  at  the  record  of  farms,  wood- 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  363 

lots,  shops,  houses,  mortgages,  and  notes  of  hand, 
the  reader  at  first  took  no  note  of  their  disposition. 
Only  when  nearing  the  end  it  suddenly  came  over 
him  that  his  own  name  had  not  once  occurred ;  that 
it  was  to  the  widow  and  her  children  all  these  chat- 
tels real  and  personal  had  been  bequeathed. 

In  a  sudden  fever  of  excitement  he  went  back  to 
the  beginning  and  reviewed  page  by  page  what  he 
had  read.  There  was  no  mistake;  the  eldest  son 
was  nowhere  mentioned. 

Hereupon,  with  a  new  and  ominous  significance, 
other  words  and  intonations  of  Mrs.  Becky  came  to 
mind.  Was  this,  then,  another  unsuspected  trait 
of  the  old  maltster  ?  And  was  it  indeed  unprompted, 
this  deadly,  long-nourished  resentment?  Had  the 
unforgiving  father,  wholly  of  his  own  notion,  waited 
all  these  weary  years  to  mete  out  punishment  to  his 
eldest  born  for  a  childish  peccadillo  ? 

Stay !  The  reader  feels  a  thrill,  and  the  perspi- 
ration starts  out  on  his  forehead.  Here  at  last  is 
his  name  in  the  final  clause ! 

"To  my  eldest  son,  Zachary  Phips,  son  of  my 
deceased  wife,  Susannah  Shrimpton,  if  he  be  alive 
at  the  time  of  my  death,  I  give  and  bequeath  the 
property  known  as  the  Malthouse,  meaning  hereby 
to  include  both  the  land  and  the  buildings.  In  case, 
however,  my  said  son,  now  absent  in  foreign  parts, 
fails  to  come  back,  or  nothing  is  heard  of  him  for 
ten  years  after  my  decease,  then  the  said  property 
shall  be  sold  for  the  benefit  of  my  estate." 

The  hot  blood  surged  to  Zacb/s  head.  A  sicken- 
ing feeling  of  mortification  and  disappointment  un- 


364  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

nerved  him.  He  read  the  clause  again  and  again. 
Could  he  trust  his  eyes?  Against  all  those  sound- 
ing bequests  to  Mrs.  Becky  and  her  brood  was  this 
tumble-down  old  building  and  its  patch  of  land  alone 
set  aside  as  the  portion  of  his  first-born ! 

Peering  through  the  dusty  window-panes,  he  sat 
for  a  long  time  pondering  the  matter.  A  movement 
of  Squire  Thompson's  recalled  him  to  himself.  He 
picked  up  the  will,  which  had  fallen  to  the  floor,  and 
carefully  re-read  it.  Coming  to  the  last  page  he 
paused.  Like  a  flash  of  light  a  new  thought  came 
into  his  head.  Clear  as  a  picture  his  father's  image 
came  back  to  him,  and  as  he  gazed  at  the  well-re- 
membered features,  one  of  the  shrewd  gray  eyes 
gleaming  forth  from  between  the  lines  of  that  final 
clause  seemed  distinctly  and  knowingly  to  wink  at 
him. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

WITH  his  mind  divided  between  doubt  and  a  new 
electrifying  hope,  Zach  felt  an  instant  need  of  talk- 
ing the  whole  matter  over  with  Sandy. 

The  skipper  was  the  most  comfortable  of  coun- 
selors. Safe  as  the  tomb  as  a  repository  of  confi- 
dences, he  was,  besides,  not  only  interested  and 
sympathetic,  but  sometimes  struck  out  from  his  own 
peculiar  standpoint  very  shrewd  and  wholesome  ad- 
vice. For  the  rest,  his  talk  and  his  presence  were 
often  frankly  disregarded,  and  he  served,  a  price- 
less office  in  a  confidant,  as  a  convenient  pretext  for 
thinking  aloud. 

Arrived  on  board  the  "Malviny,"  Zach  was  told 
that  the  skipper  was  in  the  cabin  busied  with  his 
accounts.  Unwilling  to  interrupt  so  serious  a  busi- 
ness, he  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat  down  on  the  deck. 

After  a  long  time  Sandy  appeared.  He  wore  a 
look  almost  haggard.  Accounts  always  tried  him 
to  the  verge  of  desperation.  The  crew  had  learned 
to  take  note  of  these  occasions,  and  usually  kept  out 
of  his  way  for  a  time  afterwards. 

He  came  upon  deck  venting  phrases  of  incoherent 
and  ungrammatical  profanity. 

"What 's  the  matter?"  asked  Zach,  with  studied 
coolness. 

"They  ben  at  it  agin." 


366  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

"What?" 

"Cheatin'  me." 

"Who?" 

"They're  a  set  o'  thievin'  land  -  lubbers !  Th' 
ain't  no  sech  thing  as  honesty  ashore  anyw'ers.  If 
a  man  's  born  honest,  the  dry  land  seems  to  kind  o' 
suck  it  out  o'  him." 

"What's  happened?" 

"Jest  run  yer  eye  over  thet  an'  ye  '11  see!  "  hand- 
ing a  paper.  "I  done  thet  sum,  an'  I  done  it  over 
an'  over  agin,  an'  though  it  doos  come  different 
evry  time,  it  don't  come  their  way  none  o'  the 
time." 

"Who  are  they?" 

"Our  cons'nees;  a  set  o'  blood-suckin'  Jews, 
thet 's  who  they  be,  an'  I  say  it  though  I  'm  a  Yan- 
kee myself." 

Zach  took  the  paper  good-naturedly,  went  over 
the  figures,  and  broke  out  laughing. 

"Wall,  what  now?" 

"It 's  clear  enough." 

"Ah-h,  thet 's  what  I  thought." 

"It 's  your  mistake." 

"Eh?" 

"You  've  added  in  the  year-of-our-Lord  to  the 
dollars." 

"Heigh!  — /did?" 

"Yes." 

"Wall,  they  say  figgers  don't  lie,  but  I  think 
they  're  the  lyin'est  things  I  ever  hed  anythin'  to  do 
with.  I  'd  agree  to  git  through  life,  an'  git  through 
fair  square  'n'  aboveboard,  'thout  nary  cipher  in 


ZACIIARY  PHIPS.  367 

it  —  but  let  it  go !  let  it  go !  I'd  ruther  't  be  so 
than  hev  'em  cheatin' !  When  'd  ye  git  back?" 

"An  hour  ago." 

"Ben  to  see  the  lawyer?" 

"Yes." 

"What  'd  he  say?" 

"Very  little." 

"Then  he  ain't  like  the  rest  on  'em.  'D  he 
show  ye  th'  old  man's  last  will  and  testament?  " 

"Yes." 

"Wall,  ye  war  n't  left  out,  I  guess?" 

"Not  quite." 

"  Eh  ?  Ye  don't  say  he  cut  ye  off  with  a  shillin'  ? 
Hm-m!  Thet  's  what  I  was  'fraid  of.  Wall,  now, 
Bub,  thet  's  yer  step-marm's  doin's!  " 

Zach  cleared  his  throat  and  did  not  answer. 

"It's  the  old  woman's  doin's,  clear  as  glass.  I 
don't  mean  ter  say  she  writ  the  will,  but  she  put  it 
inter  the  old  man's  head." 

"I  don't  know." 

Busied  with  thoughts  which,  for  some  reason,  he 
chose  not  to  make  known  yet  to  his  companion, 
Zach  gave  only  a  lukewarm  assent  to  the  skipper's 
indignant  charge. 

"So  he  cut  ye  off,  eh?" 

"No;  he  left  me  a  hundred  dollars  in  money"  — 

"A  hundred !  —  hm-m !  'T  ain't  no  fortune,  but 
it  might  bury  ye  at  a  pinch." 

"And  the  old  malthouse  property." 

"What's  thet  wuth?" 

"I  don't  know;  but  if  you  're  through  ciphering, 
we  '11  go  ashore  after  dinner  and  look  at  it." 


368  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"So  we  will.  It  may  be  better  'n'  nothin',  but 
I  hain't  no  gret  faith  in  dry  land.  Then  agin, 
with  thet  old  woman  a-watchin'  an'  a-grabbin' 
around,  th'  ain't  no  gret  danger  ye  've  got  much  of 
a  plum." 

After  a  midday  dinner  aboard,  the  two  went  ashore 
and,  sauntering  around  through  Dock  Square,  came 
to  the  malthouse. 

"Yeah,  hm-m!"  muttered  Sandy,  ejecting  a 
mouthful  of  tobacco  juice,  and  drying  his  lips  on 
the  back  of  his  hand.  "  Wall,  Bub,  ef  ye  want  to 
know  my  opinion  o'  thet,  I  would  n't  take  it  for  a 
gift!"  * 

Busy  with  his  own  speculations,  Zach  made  no 
remark. 

"More  'n  thet,"  continued  the  skipper,  with  rising 
indignation,  "I'd  make  a  present  on  't  to  the  old 
woman,  an'  tell  her  thet  s'  long 's  she  's  got  the 
run  o'  the  stye,  she  can  jest  git  inter  the  trough  an' 
suzzle  round." 

The  satire  fell  on  deaf  ears.  Zach,  with  calcu- 
lating eyes,  was  measuring  the  space  covered  by  the 
outhouses  and  pigpens  which,  straggling  downward 
towards  the  dock,  disguised  the  very  spacious  di- 
mensions of  the  lot. 

"  'Less  ye  wanted  to  go  inter  raisin'  hogs  fer  a 
livin',"  continued  Sandy,  "I  don't  see  as  ye  can  do 
anythin'  with  the  land,  an'  as  fer  the  buildin's,  the 
best  thing  is  to  set  fire  to  'em  'fore  they  drop." 

"Humph!  I  don't  know,  skipper.  You  could 
never  tell  what  father  meant  by  anything  he  said 
or  did;  and  I've  been  thinking  perhaps  he's  not 
done  a  bad  thing  by  me." 


ZACHASY  PHIPS.  369 

The  skipper  whistled  incredulously  and  took  a 
fresh  quid. 

"Do  you  see  how  all  the  business  is  crowding 
down  to  this  end  of  the  town? " 

"Hm-m-m!" 

"  Do  you  see  all  those  big  stores  and  warehouses 
in  State  Street?" 

"Wall?" 

"  Do  you  see  how  fast  it  is  building  up  over  there 
on  the  other  side  of  the  market?  " 

"What  of  it?" 

"Don't  you  notice  how  the  building  fever  is  be- 
ginning to  creep  around  to  this  side  ?  Look  at  that 
row  on  the  corner." 

"Wall,  Bub,  now  ye  pint  it  out,  it  doos  seem  as 
ef  't  was  sunthin'  spreadiii',  like  the  measles  or 
varyloid,  but"  — 

"Just  notice,  too,"  continued  Zach,  with  kindling 
eye,  "that  all  these  new  buildings  are  shops  and 
stores  and  warehouses,  and  that  every  one  of  them 
is  occupied." 

"Yeah,  yeah,  I  do,"  answered  the  reluctant  skip- 
per. 

"  Well,  now,  Sandy,  I  'm  beginning  to  think  my 
father  knew  what  he  was  about "  — 

"Ye  don't  say!" 

"Knew  that  he  was  giving  me  the  most  valuable 
piece  of  real  estate  he  had,  and  that  he  meant  to 
do  it." 

Sandy  screwed  up  his  eyes  and  refrained  for  some 
minutes  from  any  comment,  walking  about  the  prem- 
ises, trampling  down  the  weeds,  and  kicking  the  old 


370  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

kettles  with  a  dejected  air.  At  last,  conscious  that 
some  comment  was  expected  of  him,  he  cleared  his 
mouth  and  said,  — 

"It  may  be  as  you  say.  I  don't  say  't  ain't. 
You  know'd  the  old  man,  an'  you  're  the  best  jedge. 
Ef,  as  you  've  ben  a-tellin',  he  outwitted  the  old 
woman  all  his  life,  't  ain't  onlikely  he  may  'a' 
played  this  ere  caper  arter  he  was  dead.  All  the 
same,  Bub,  ef  ye  want  my  mind,  I  'm  free  to  say,  I 
don't  begredge  ye  this  ramshackle  old  place  one 
mite." 

So  far  from  being  disconcerted  by  this  very  posi- 
tive opinion,  the  devisee  walked  back  to  the  wharf 
where  their  boat  was  waiting  with  an  air  of  elation, 
stopping  at  the  first  painter's  shop  on  the  way  to 
order  a  large  board  painted  with  the  legend,  — 

FOR  SALE  OR  To  LET. 
INQUIRE  OF  THE  POSTMASTER. 

Meantime  a  purpose  had  been  forming  in  Zach's 
mind,  which  next  day,  in  one  of  his  talking-aloud 
moods,  he  laid  before  the  skipper,  much  to  that 
worthy's  surprise. 

"I  've  been  thinking  of  those  skins  of  mine." 

"  'Feard  the  moths  '11  git  at  'em?  " 

"No,  but  how  I  'm  to  get  rid  of  'em." 

"Wall,  take  yer  time;  th'  won't  be  no  storage 
charges  while  they  're  on  board  the  Malviny." 

"But  there  's  the  risk  of  fire,  and  then  it 's  high 
time  I  was  getting  my  money  out  of  'em." 

"So  it  is;  ye 're  right.  Why  don't  ye  try  an' 
trade  'em  off  here  in  town  ?  " 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  371 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"Eh?     Why  not?" 

"London  's  the  only  market." 

"The  cost  o'  sendin'  on  'em  over  'd  eat  up  most 
o'  the  profit,  I  reckon." 

"Yes,  so  I  'm  thinking  of  taking  them  myself." 

"Sho!" 

"I  could  do  better  with  them  myself  than  another, 
and  have  a  chance  to  see  a  bit  of  the  world  besides." 

"Yeah,  "said  Sandy  doubtfully,  "ef  ye  understood 
the  language." 

"Language!  why  'tis  English!" 

"Wall,  they  call  it  English,  but  an  out-an'-out 
Frenchman  is  a  mightier  sight  easier  ter  understand. 
I  never  pertend  to  ketch  more  'n  one  word  in  ten 
when  a  Johnny  Bull  talks.  He  mumbles  his  words 
round  in  his  jaw  like  a  bite  o'  hot  hasty  pudding, 
and  generally  swallers  more  'n  half  he  oughter  spit 
out." 

Several  hours  afterwards  the  skipper  came  to  Zach 
as  he  was  sitting  in  the  stern  sheets,  and  mumbled 
with  an  embarrassed  air,  — 

"I  didn't  say  nothin'  'bout  it  afore, — I  s'pose 
you  thought  't  was  queer,  —  but,  fact  is,  I  did  n't 
see  how  I  could  do  it,  an'  I  wanted  to  think  it 
over." 

"What?"  asked  Zach,  innocently. 

"Ye  see,  she  ain't  rigged  for  it." 

"Rigged  for  what?" 

"Takin'  on  ye  across  the  pond." 

"Who  ain't?" 

"The  Malviny." 


372  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Next  morning,  Zach  found  in  his  mail  a  formida- 
ble-looking official  document.  Breaking  the  seal, 
he  read  as  follows :  — 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C., 
EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  July  10,  1818. 

To  ZACHARY  PHIPS,  ESQ. 

Sir,  —  Your  communication  upon  the  Seminole 
War  has  been  received  and  considered,  and  His  Ex- 
cellency, the  President,  desires  me  to"  say  that  your 
presence  is  desired  here  at  your  earliest  convenience 
with  a  view  to  a  fuller  discussion  of  its  contents. 
Your  obedient  servant, 

J M N, 

Private  Sec'y. 

To  say  that  Zach  was  much  moved  by  this  sum- 
mons is  to  speak  within  bounds.  Evidently  he  had 
looked  for  no  such  result  from  his  memorial.  After 
mulling  over  the  matter  for  a  while,  he  took  Sandy 
into  his  counsel.  The  skipper  promptly  expressed 
his  opinion. 

"Th'  ain't  no  two  ways  'bout  answerhr  thet." 

"Eh?" 

"Ye  '11  hev  to  go." 

This  was  confirmatory  of  Zach's  own  first  impres- 
sions. He  walked  apart  and  read  the  letter  again. 
It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  it  caused  a  very  percepti- 
ble stir  in  his  blood.  Remembrances  of  Burr  and 
his  memorable  words  come  back.  For  years  he 
has  been  waiting,  he  hardly  knows  for  what,  —  a 
chance,  a  hearing.  Suddenly  a  door  opens  before 
him  leading  he  knows  not  whither,  and  from  within 
an  unknown  voice  cries,  "Enter!  " 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  373 

His  mind  made  up,  two  things  remained  to  be 
done :  to  settle  up  with  Mrs.  Becky,  and  to  inquire 
of  "Square"  Thompson  what  disposition  the  late 
Obadiah  Phips  had  made  of  the  prize-money  given 
him  by  his  son  to  invest. 

Upon  this  point  he  received  a  prompt  and  satis- 
factory report. 

"Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  old  attorney, 
fumbling  over  the  contents  of  his  leather  box,  "*t 
was  your  money,  —  your  name  is  Zachary,  —  yes,  I 
remember ;  he  told  me  all  about  it.  Ah,  here  it  is ! 
Your  father,  young  man,  was  one  of  the  best  judges 
of  real  property  in  this  town;  had  a  scent  like  a 
dog  for  a  good  investment.  Now  this  matter,"  un- 
tying with  deliberation  some  dusty  old  papers  as 
he  talked ;  "  let  me  see,  the  original  investment  was 
a  thousand  dollars,  or  thereabouts.  Well,  he  put 
that  into  a  note  and  mortgage.  The  interest  was 
never  paid ;  I  guess  he  never  very  much  expected  it 
would  be.  He  foreclosed  in  due  time,  reduced  the 
premises  to  possession,  and  when  the  equity  expired 
he  patched  up  the  old  buildings  a  little,  and  let  the 
place  for  just  about  enough  to  cover  expenses." 
Zach,  listening  attentively,  did  not  look  impressed 
with  this  evidence  of  paternal  shrewdness.  "Now, 
just  before  his  last  sickness,  he  was  in  here  one  day 
talking  about  this  business, — you  ain't  bound,  of 
course,  by  anything  he  said.  I  ?m  only  giving  you 
his  opinion  for  what  it 's  worth.  The  old  man  said 
he  should  let  that  pot  simmer  for  four  or  five  years, 
and  then  he  ended  up  by  giving  me  a  wink." 

On  going  out  next  morning  to  call  upon  Mrs. 


374  ZACHAET  PHIPS. 

Becky,  Zach  found  her  in  a  faded  calico  gown 
mopping  the  entry  floor.  Quickly  controlling  a 
slight  embarrassment,  she  said,  as  she  pushed  aside 
her  slop-pail  to  make  room  for  him,  -— 

"I  didn't  'spect  company  quite  so  early.  Walk 
into  the  front  room,  won't  ye,  an'  set  down?  It 's 
a  pooty  hot  day." 

Too  much  preoccupied  to  heed  the  housewife's 
discomfiture,  Zach  walked  into  the  darkened  keep- 
ing-room and  took  a  seat. 

Mrs.  Becky  did  not  keep  him  waiting.  Having 
washed  her  hands,  smoothed  her  hair,  and  tied  a 
white  handkerchief  about  her  throat,  she  came  in 
with  an  ill-controlled  look  of  curiosity. 

"You  —  ahem  —  you  ben  to  see  Square  Thomp- 
son yit?" 

"Yes." 

"  'D  he  show  ye  —  'd  ye  read  the  will?  " 

"I  did." 

"Wall,  —  h-h-hem!  Obadiah  did  it,  an'  he  did 
it  jest  as  he  wanted  to,  I  s'pose;  an'  after  all, 
't  ain't  nobody's  business  but  his'n." 

This  comment  was  uttered  with  a  certain  air  of 
defiance  which  was  not  lost  upon  the  listener,  who 
dryly  remarked,  — 

"He  evidently  never  expected  me  to  come  back." 

"I  dunno  'bout  that,"  returned  the  executrix  de- 
fensively, adding  with  a  little  deprecatory  flutter, 
"It's  kind  o'  out  o'  repair  now,  but  I  s'pose  it 
could  be  fixed  up  so  's  to  be  wuth  sumthin'  to  any- 
body thet  was  in  that  kind  o'  business." 

Zach   stole  a   quiet  look   at  the  speaker.     Her 


ZACHAEY  PH1PS.  375 

apologetic  tone  was  significant.  It  was  plain,  more- 
over, that  she  had  not  lately  visited  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  malthouse. 

There  followed  a  long  pause  which,  although  she 
tried  several  times,  the  widow  found  it  difficult  to 
break. 

"Wall,  what  'bout  the  rest  on  't?"  she  suddenly 
burst  forth. 

"Eh?" 

"Ef  ye  read  the  will,  ye  see  thet  ther  's  sumthin' 
extry  comin'  to  you  in  the  shape  o'  money." 

"Yes." 

"Thet's  a  legacy.  Of  course  it  belongs  to  me 
to  pay  it,  an'  I  want  to  git  it  settled.  I  must  con- 
fess it  puts  me  out  to  be  called  on  so  sudd  in.  It 's 
a  sight  o'  money.  I  dunno,  I  'm  sure,  —  when  be 
ye  goin'  away?" 

"To-morrow." 

""What  say?"  she  cried,  with  a  flash  of  her  old 
militant  energy.  "To-morrer?  Ye 're  crazy!  How 
d'  ye  think  I  'm  goin'  to  git  the  money?  I  declare 
for  't,  it  puts  me  all  in  a  fever.  I  can't  do  it,  I 
tell  ye.  But  there  —  there  '11  be  papers  to  sign,  of 
course,  an'  we  've  got  to  go  to  the  Square's  any- 
way." 

She  clutched  at  the  momentary  reprieve  as  a 
drowning  man  at  a  straw. 

Next  day,  on  the  stroke  of  the  hour,  Zach 
appeared  at  Squire  Thompson's  office,  where  Mrs. 
Becky  had  already  been  waiting  a  full  half  hour. 
At  her  request  the  lawyer  drew  up  a  form  of  receipt 


376  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

discharging  the  executrix  from  all  further  obligation 
to  the  legatee. 

Bringing  forth  the  late  maltster's  well-worn 
leather  wallet,  Mrs.  Becky,  with  nervous  scrupu- 
losity, counted  out  the  precious  banknotes,  and 
handed  them  to  the  legatee  with  the  air  of  one  com- 
mitting them  to  the  flames. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

EARLY  next  morning,  accompanied  by  the  faith- 
ful skipper,  Zach  made  his  way  to  Earl's  Coffee- 
house on  Hanover  Street,  and  took  his  place  on  the 
fast  mail  stage-coach,  the  Flying  Cloud,  which  stood 
before  the  door  harnessed  with  four  horses,  ready  to 
set  forth  on  its  long  journey. 

"Ready"  is  a  word  of  elastic  meaning,  and  in 
this  connection  may  be  taken  with  reservations.  So 
far  as  concerned  the  stage -traveling  public,  Jerry 
Twichell,  the  burly  and  experienced  driver,  de- 
clared that  "They  never  was,  an'  they  never  would 
be  what  you  might  call  really  ready,  ef  you  waited 
till  the  crack  o'  doom,  an'  th'  only  way  is  to  start  on 
the  pint  of  the  hour,  ready  or  no  ready." 

What  with  the  bestowal  of  passengers,  the  strap- 
ping on  of  luggage,  the  hurrying  to  and  fro  of 
grooms  examining  the  harness  and  running-gear, 
the  arrival  of  late  letters  to  be  put  in  the  mail,  and 
the  coming  in  of  eleventh-hour  parcels  which  were 
tossed  up  to  a  mysterious  limbo  of  odds  and  ends 
beneath  the  driver's  feet,  the  tavern  yard  presented 
a  bustling  scene. 

At  last,  when  warning  had  been  given  for  the 
third  time  in  the  public  rooms  that  the  stage  for 
New  York  was  about  to  start,  the  rubicund  Jerry 
emerged  from  the  tap-room  with  a  fortified  air, 


378  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

climbed  to  his  seat  amongst  a  litter  of  portmanteaus, 
hampers,  parcels,  and  travelers'  legs,  shook  out  his 
reins,  cracked  his  long  whip,  and  the  lumbering 
vehicle  went  tilting  and  swaying  off  to  the  south- 
ward along  the  Dedham  turnpike. 

As  they  turned  the  corner  of  Court  Street,  Zach 
looked  back  and  beheld  Sandy  standing  disconso- 
lately in  the  tavern  yard,  wiping  from  his  lips  with 
the  back  of  his  hand  the  sugary  lees  of  their  parting 
dram. 

An  hour  for  dinner  at  Dedham,  and  they  were 
away  again.  Commonplace  incidents  of  travel 
beguiled  the  afternoon :  a  fat  man  on  the  top  went 
to  sleep  and  well-nigh  rolled  off;  a  nervous  woman 
inside  was  seized  with  nausea;  the  driver,  lapsing 
from  the  awful  dignity  of  the  first  few  miles,  unbent 
to  the  pitch  of  recounting  several  terrible  accidents 
which  had  befallen  other  lines  of  coaches. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  day,  the  fellow-travelers 
began  to  feel  a  little  acquainted,  and,  seated  after 
supper  on  the  broad  front  steps  of  Landlord  Clark's 
hostelry  at  Medway,  they  discussed  over  their  pipes 
the  topics  of  the  hour. 

Zach  was  greatly  interested  to  find  that  the  all- 
absorbing  subject  for  discussion  was  the  Seminole 
War,  and  what  course  the  Government  would  take 
in  dealing  with  General  Jackson.  Meanwhile,  what- 
ever the  Government  might  do,  it  was  clear  enough 
what  these  Bostoneers  and  their  neighbors  thought 
about  the  matter.  Bight  or  wrong,  General  Jack- 
son must  be  sustained.  The  argument  was  as  clear 
as  crystal  and  would  pack  in  a  nutshell.  He  had 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  379 

been  sent  down  to  put  an  end  to  the  Seminole  War. 
He  had  put  an  end  to  it,  —  a  speedy  and  effectual 
end ;  and  if  the  Government  wanted  a  man  to  fool 
and  make  believe,  they  must  send  somebody  besides 
"Old  Hickory." 

Listening  to  sentiments  like  these,  combined  with 
much  false  statement  of  fact  and  many  weak  and 
irresponsible  conclusions,  Zach  achieved  a  triumph 
of  self-control  in  keeping  his  mouth  shut. 

Next  morning  betimes  the  disputants  were  again 
speeding  on  their  way  and  slept  that  night  at  Thomp- 
son, Connecticut.  The  following  day  the  little  Nut- 
meg State  unfolded  to  them  her  charms,  and  glad- 
dened their  eyes  by  visions  of  a  rich  and  rolling 
country. 

Although  the  road  was  none  of  the  best,  the  jolts 
and  jarrings  were  soon  forgotten  on  arriving  at  Cov- 
entry, where  they  found  not  only  a  well-cooked  sup- 
per, but  a  cordial  welcome  at  the  hands  of  the  buxom 
landlady  and  her  comely  daughters,  who  have  been 
otherwise  handed  down  to  fame. 

Arriving  on  the  following  afternoon  before  sun- 
down at  Hartford,  Zach  took  time  for  a  stroll  through 
the  wide  elm-shaded  streets,  which  he  thought  the 
most  charming  he  had  ever  seen,  and  remained  firmly 
of  that  mind  until,  at  the  end  of  another  day's  jaunt, 
they  reached  New  Haven. 

Here  he  was  astonished  to  find  the  shops  and 
private  dwellings  well-nigh  as  fine  as  those  of  Bos- 
ton, although,  save  for  the  college  and  one  or  two 
churches,  the  whole  town  was  built  of  wood. 

The  passengers  on  the  Flying  Cloud  were  by  this 


380  ZACH ART  PHIPS. 

time  old  acquaintances.  They  varied  the  monotony 
of  the  journey  by  playing  "Odd  and  Even,"  match- 
ing pennies,  telling  stories,  cracking  jokes,  and  now 
and  then,  by  making  the  welkin  ring  with  an  old- 
time  catch  or  the  refrain  of  a  popular  song. 

Arrived  at  Stamford,  they  were  cheered  by  the 
driver's  declaration  that  "the  brunt  of  the  journey 
was  nigh  about  over."  Thence  on  through  the  flour- 
ishing towns  of  Stratford,  Fairfield,  and  Newfield, 
and  along  the  whole  smiling  shore  of  Long  Island 
Sound,  they  bowled  along  over  smoothest  roads  and 
through  scenes  neat,  trim,  and  well-adjusted  as  the 
unfolding  scenes  of  a  panorama. 

One  more  stop  at  Rye,  near  Morrisania,  the  resi- 
dence of  the  famous  Gouverneur  Morris,  and  behold, 
at  last,  the  great  city  of  New  York.  Approaching 
it  thus  from  the  landward  side,  Zach  was  astonished 
at  its  far-stretching  suburbs,  and  almost  held  his 
breath  at  the  statement  of  one  of  the  passengers  that 
the  city  now  contained  fully  one  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants. 

Rolling  down  Broadway  with  a  thundering  noise, 
they  drew  up  at  last  before  Mrs.  Avery's,  in  the 
Battery,  having  made  the  whole  journey  in  less  tluin 
eight  days,  thereby  bettering  the  best  record  ever 
made  by  the  Flying  Cloud. 

Improving  the  half  hour  before  supper,  Zach 
roamed  about  the  greensward  of  the  Battery,  study- 
ing the  shipping  in  the  harbor  and  watching  the  sun 
set  behind  the  Jersey  hills. 

That  evening,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  fellow- 
travelers,  he  went  to  the  Park  Theatre  to  see  the 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  381 

renowned  actor  Edmund  Kean  in  his  great  part  of 
Richard  III.  Disappointed  on  the  first  entrance  of 
the  tragedian  by  his  inferior  size,  Zach  speedily  for- 
got that  drawback  as  the  play  proceeded.  However 
diminutive  in  reality,  the  actor  had  caught  the  trick 
of  looking  big,  and,  by  the  freedom  with  which  he 
flung  himself  about,  by  the  working  of  his  brilliant 
eyes,  and  the  sonorous  cadences  of  his  elocution,  so 
dominated  the  stage  that  the  audience  sat  thrilled 
before  him.  Indeed,  one  woman  in  the  pit  fainted 
away  in  the  great  tent  scene,  which,  although  it  may 
well  have  been  due  to  bad  air,  was  universally  at- 
tributed to  the  power  of  the  player. 

Willingly  would  Zach  have  lingered  in  the  bus- 
tling metropolis,  which  had  grown  and  changed  re- 
markably since  his  former  visit ;  but,  keeping  ever 
in  mind  his  momentous  summons,  he  started  next 
day  betimes  on  his  way  to  the  capital. 

Through  the  heart  of  New  Jersey,  stopping  only 
at  Trenton,  he  came  to  Philadelphia,  and  in  the  long 
twilight  after  supper  roamed  about  the  streets,  striv- 
ing to  find  one  place  or  building  only  dimly  to 
recall  the  scene  of  his  memorable  setting  forth  so 
many  years  ago  on  the  fateful  Washita  expedition. 

Staying  not  for  sentiment  .or  remembrance,  next 
morning  he  was  again  on  the  way,  and  arrived,  after 
a  two  days'  tedious  ride  through  a  barren  country, 
at  the  noted  city  of  Baltimore,  where  the  beauty 
and  splendor  of  the  town  made  ample  amends  for 
its  dreary  surroundings. 

Thirty -three  miles  further  on  they  came  to  An- 
napolis, but  the  tavern  to  which  they  were  com- 


382  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

mended,  as  being  "of  great  repute,"  proved  to  be  a 
big  barn  of  a  place  thronged  with  dirty,  idle  negroes, 
where  they  had  the  worst  fare  and  the  poorest  at- 
tendance experienced  anywhere  on  the  route. 

With  a  sigh  of  relief,  next  morning,  Zach  climbed 
upon  the  roof  of  the  Flying  Cloud.  It  was  to  be 
their  last  day  upon  the  road.  But  glad  as  he  was  to 
reach  his  journey's  end,  he  nevertheless  experienced 
a  touch  of  uneasiness,  as  he  reflected  upon  the  un- 
known nature  and  the  uncertain  issue  of  his  errand. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  in  a  pouring  rain,  they  at 
last  rolled  into  Washington.  He  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed at  its  aspect.  At  first,  indeed,  it  seemed 
little  more  than  a  conglomerate  of  negro  huts,  above 
which,  in  the  distance,  towered  in  bizarre  contrast 
the  palatial  White  House  and  the  vast  scaffolded 
structure  of  the  unfinished  Capitol,  so  lately  de- 
stroyed by  the  British. 

All  about  were  dreary  fields  and  treeless  ridges, 
intersected  at  regular  intervals  by  the  interminable 
lines  of  projected  streets  and  avenues,  roughly  laid 
out.  Along  some  of  these,  occasional  mean  two- 
story  brick  buildings,  scattered  at  wide  intervals, 
served  only  to  deepen  the  impression  of  desolation. 

Down  near  the  Government  Building,  to  vary 
the  scene,  there  was  a  sprinkling  of  rum-shops  and 
gambling-houses,  the  doorways  of  which  were  filled 
with  loungers.  Everywhere  the  streets  were  hub- 
deep  with  mud. 

Having  heard  much  of  O'Neal's  tavern,  Zach 
went  thither,  where  presently,  much  to  his  surprise, 
he  beheld  pop  in,  out  of  the  storm,  like  a  half- 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  383 

drowned  rat,  his  old  friend  Monsieur.  The  two 
were  well  content  to  meet. 

It  soon  proved,  moreover,  that  the  house  had  other 
and  more  notable  inmates  than  the  little  Frenchman, 
and  the  new-comer  was  well-nigh  overpowered  to 
find  himself  sitting  at  supper  in  company  with  sev- 
eral congressmen,  one  or  two  visiting  governors,  a 
sprinkling  of  military  and  naval  officers,  and  several 
foreigners  of  more  or  less  note. 

The  landlord's  bouncing  daughter,  who  was  des- 
tined to  cut  a  great  figure  in  the  records  of  a  suc- 
ceeding administration,  with  the  aid  of  a  brace  of 
negro  wenches  served  the  guests,  and  received  with 
equanimity  the  rather  free  jokes  and  compliments  of 
these  grave  and  merry  personages. 

Consulting  Monsieur  upon  the  proper  course  to 
pursue,  Zach  was  told  that  he  must  promptly  make 
known  his  arrival  in  the  capital  by  a  call  at  the 
White  House. 

With  his  heart  in  his  mouth,  yet  sustained  by  an 
underlying  firmness  of  purpose  which  heretofore  had 
served  him  at  need,  he  accordingly  set  forth,  about 
ten  o'clock  next  morning,  to  call  upon  the  Chief 
Magistrate. 

He  was  astonished  to  find  the  White  House,  about 
which  he  had  heard  so  much,  still  unfinished.  He 
found  himself,  moreover,  a  little  appalled  by  the 
show  of  state  which  hedged  about  the  august  person 
whom  he  sought. 

The  imposing  slave,  dressed  in  a  dark  livery  with 
gilt  buttons,  who  opened  the  door,  doubted,  after  a 
deprecating  survey  of  the  caller,  whether  the  Presi- 


384  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

dent  would  receive  him  at  such  an  hour,  but  was 
prevailed  upon  to  take  up  his  name. 

With  quickened  heart-beat,  Zach  sat  down  in  the 
ante-room  to  wait.  His  pulses  had  time  to  subside 
to  a  movement  quite  normal  before  he  saw  or  heard 
anything  more  of  his  messenger.  Meantime,  from 
a  state  of  anxiety  he  lapsed  into  one  of  weariness, 
and  at  last,  in  the  somnolent  noontide  atmosphere, 
nodded  off  to  sleep. 

Brusquely  awakened  from  this  stolen  nap  by  the 
dilatory  negro,  Zach  was  shown  upstairs  and  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  an  important-looking  man  who 
sat  writing  at  a  desk. 

Advancing  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  the  visitor 
respectfully  stood  and  waited.  The  man  continued 
to  write  for  several  minutes.  Presently,  without 
looking  up,  he  uttered  with  a  sharp  rising  inflection 
the  word  — 

"Phips?" 

"Yes." 

"You  come  to  see  His  Excellency?  " 

"Yes  —  I  —  the  President  sent  for  me." 

"Take  a  seat!" 

Accepting  the  invitation,  Zach  wondered  whether 
this  could  be  the  Chief  Magistrate  in  person,  obliged 
by  etiquette  to  speak  of  himself  in  the  third  person. 

Awaiting  the  further  leisure  of  this  busy  person- 
age, Zach  took  note  of  his  surroundings.  The 
room  was  large,  and  plainly  furnished.  Some  maps 
hung  on  the  wall.  There  was  a  bust  of  somebody 
on  a  pedestal.  A  tall  clock  ticked  in  the  corner. 
The  carpet,  otherwise  faded,  was  worn  quite  thread- 


Z AGHAST  PHIPS.  385 

bare  under  the  desk  by  the  shuffling  feet  of  its  rest- 
less occupant. 

During  the  hour  which  Zach  waited,  several  per- 
sons were  ushered  in  by  the  black  door-tender,  dis- 
patched their  business,  and  retired.  From  time  to 
time  a  young  man  brought  papers  from  an  inner 
room.  On  one  of  these  occasions  the  young  man 
addressed  the  person  at  the  desk  as  Mr.  Mason. 

Instantly  Zach  rose  and  advanced  to  the  desk. 

The  secretary,  looking  up,  said  coolly,  — 

"Eh?  Haven't  you  been  in  yet?  "  Then  turn- 
ing to  the  under-secretary,  continued,  — 

"  Somebody  the  President  sent  for ;  —  show  him 
in!" 

Choking  with  indignation,  Zach  passed  through 
the  door  the  young  man  opened,  and  found  himself 
at  last  in  the  presence  of  the  Chief  Magistrate,  but 
without  any  of  that  feeling  of  awe  with  which  two 
hours  before  he  had  entered  the  house. 

He  discovered,  as  the  sole  occupant  of  the  room, 
a  spare,  middle-aged  man,  busied  with  some  papers 
at  a  desk.  He  was  dressed  in  a  drab  coat  and  knee- 
breeches,  with  white  top-boots,  as  though  he  had 
just  returned  from  an  outing  on  horseback.  His 
scant  hair  was  powdered,  and  gathered  into  a  cue 
behind.  A  voluminous  white  cravat  came  snugly 
up  under  his  chin,  while  his  ruffled  shirt,  in  snowy 
waves  of  lawn,  rippled  in  and  out  of  his  old-time 
waistcoat. 

Looking  up  from  his  work,  he  presented  to  his 
visitor  a  world-worn  but  unimpressive  face,  marked 
by  deep  lateral  furrows  across  a  rather  contracted 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

forehead,  by  small,  impassive  blue -gray  eyes,  and 
cheeks  hollowed  from  loss  of  teeth. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir?  "  he  asked. 

"Nothing!  "  bluntly  answered  the  visitor,  indig- 
nant at  being  thus  thrust  in  without  introduction. 

Dropping  his  head,  the  better  to  look  over  his 
glasses,  the  President  surveyed  the  speaker  with 
mild  surprise. 

"  'T  is  not  my  hour  for  receiving  general  visit- 
ors," he  patiently  objected,  well  aware  that  his  new 
rules  of  etiquette  were  not  yet  widely  known  to  the 
public,  "but  I  bid  you  welcome  if  you  come  to  pay 
your  respects." 

"I  came  because  I  was  sent  for." 

"  What  is  your  name?  " 

"Zachary  Phips." 

"Humph,"  after  a  long  and  deliberate  reflection. 
"Yes,  I  remember,  something  to  do  with  the  Semi- 
noles  —  with  General  Jackson.  Take  a  seat,  Mr. 
Phips !  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

Finishing  a  letter  which  he  had  been  writing,  the 
President  signed  it  with  an  old-fashioned  flourish 
and,  throwing  down  his  quill,  fixed  his  small,  intent 
eyes  again  upon  his  visitor. 

"So  you  are  Mr.  Phips!" 

Zach  bowed. 

"You  are  young,  sir,  to  have  a  hand  in  such  a 
matter  as  that  you  wrote  me  upon !  " 

Doubtful  whether  to  interpret  this  as  a  compli- 
ment or  a  reproach,  Zach  was  silent.  Conscious, 
moreover,  that  he  was  being  subjected  to  a  jealous 
if  not  hostile  scrutiny,  he  looked  uncomfortable. 


ZACHARY  PH1PS.  387 

"I  found  the  contents  of  your  paper  very  extra- 
ordinary, sir.  Do  you  know  that  you  took  upon 
yourself  a  grave  responsibility  in  writing  it?  " 

Zach  stared,  and  hesitated. 

"You  have  brought  very  serious  charges  against 
a  most  distinguished  man,  —  charges  which  nothing 
but  the  truth  could  justify;  are  you  prepared  to 
substantiate  them?" 

"I  am,"  was  the  prompt  and  bold  answer.  "I 
told  the  truth,  and  I  am  ready  to  stand  by  it ! " 

"Are  you  ready  to  confront  General  Jackson  and 
repeat  these  charges?"  was  the  next  question,  put 
with  an  emphasis  evidently  intended  to  daunt  the 
accuser. 

"I  will  confront  General  Jackson  and  his  whole 
court,  and  call  them  all  the  pack  of  murderers  that 
they  are! " 

An  odd  movement  took  place  in  the  face  of  the 
veteran  statesman,  a  movement  rather  of  the  blood 
than  of  the  muscles,  which  in  one  of  a  more  delicate 
complexion  would  have  resulted  in  a  flush.  Other- 
wise he  received  this  violent  statement  with  surpris- 
ing imperturbability. 

"Are  you  aware  that  General  Jackson  went  to 
Florida  armed  with  extraordinary  powers?"  he 
asked  after  a  little. 

"Whatever  his  powers,  they  could  not  include  the 
right  to  invade  the  territory  of  a  friendly  nation, 
to  capture  their  forts,  to  imprison  without  warrant 
the  subjects  of  still  another  neutral  power  there  so- 
journing, to  execute  without  fair  trial  persons  not 
taken  in  actual  war,  to  decoy  by  tricks  unsuspecting 


388  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Indian  chiefs  on  board  his  men-of-war  and  hang 
them  like  dogs  in  cold  blood." 

The  chief  magistrate  coughed  a  dry  little  cough, 
and  looked  a  bit  baffled. 

"You  take  a  very  singular  view  of  this  case,"  he 
said  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "the  view,  I  may 
say,  of  a  foreigner;  are  you  too  a  British  subject?" 

"I  told  you  explicitly  in  the  memorial  that  I  am 
an  American." 

"  Humph !     Where  were  you  born  ?  " 

"In  Boston." 

"  So !  —  you  were  educated,  then,  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege?" 

A  deep  flush  overspread  Zach's  face  at  this  invol- 
untary tribute. 

"No." 

"You  have  studied  abroad?" 

"No." 

"  Where,  then,  did  you  acquire  this  knowledge  of 
history  and  international  law?  " 

"From  private  study." 

"And  the  French?" 

"  I  picked  it  up  in  New  Orleans,  —  everybody 
speaks  French  there." 

"How  long  have  you  been  studying  these  sub- 
jects? " 

"Ten  years  or  more." 

"What  is  your  profession?" 

Again  Zach  blushed,  and  for  a  moment  was  at  a 
loss,  but  in  the  end  answered  bluntly,  — 

"I  have  none." 

"You  were  associated   with  this    Scotchman  in 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  389 

trading,  as  I  remember  your  account  of  yourself  in 
the  memorial." 

"  Temporarily  and  by  chance ;  we  met  in  Nassau, 
and  having  nothing  better  to  do,  I  took  up  with  his 
offer." 

"What  were  you  doing  in  Nassau?" 

"I  went  there  to  —  to  see  some  friends  after 
being  released  from  prison  in  Halifax." 

"How  came  you  imprisoned  in  Halifax?  Par- 
don me,  young  man,  it  is  necessary  that  I  know 
with  whom  I  am  dealing  in  so  serious  a  matter! " 

"  I  was  captured  by  the  British  Shannon  when  she 
took  the  Chesapeake." 

"You  were  in  our  navy?  " 

"Yes." 

"  So !  —  you  have  served  your  country,  then.  How 
long  were  you  in  the  service?  " 

"About  two  years." 

"You  can  refer  to  your  commanding  officers?  " 

"Captain  Lawrence  is  dead"  — 

"True,  I  forgot." 

"  Commodore  Isaac  Hull  might  remember  me  —  I 
don't  know  —  it 's  a  good  while  ago,  and  I  was  only 
a  middy." 

"You  were  with  him?  " 

"On  the  Constitution." 

The  President's  face  cleared. 

"  Why,  after  this  record,  did  you  leave  the  ser- 
vice? " 

"  Because  the  Avar  was  over,  my  term  had  expired, 
and  the  country  had  no  further  need  of  me." 

"Humph!"     The  questioner  rose,  walked  about 


390  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

the  room,  and  looked  out  of  one  of  the  tall  win- 
dows ;  Zach  remarking  the  while  that  he  had  an  un- 
graceful figure  and  carriage. 

"You  came  here  from  Boston?"  he  asked,  after 
several  minutes'  silence. 

"Yes." 

"And  what  were  you  doing  in  Boston?" 

"Attending  to  business  connected  with  my  fa- 
ther's estate." 

"You  are  a  man  of  property,  then?  " 

"No  —  er  —  I  —  nothing  worth  mentioning." 

Returning  to  his  seat  at  the  table,  the  President 
fixed  his  eyes  again  attentively  upon  his  visitor. 

"What  are  your  means  of  subsistence." 

For  a  moment  Zach  showed  signs  of  returning 
embarrassment,  but  controlling  himself,  answered 
simply,  — 

"I  have  none." 

"No  profession,  no  occupation!  You  must  have 
turned  one  and  twenty?" 

"I  am  twenty -two." 

"You  are  going  back  to  Boston?" 

"I  suppose  so;  I  don't  know.  I  shall  stay  here 
till  Congress  comes  in." 

The  brows  of  the  veteran  politician  contracted 
into  a  little  frown.  He  drummed  with  his  white 
fingers  on  the  green  baize  cloth  before  him,  and 
studied  his  visitor  askance. 

"  'T  is  a  good  while ;  are  you  content  to  remain 
so  long  idle?" 

"No,  but  I  have  nothing  to  call  me  away." 

"Humph!" 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  391 

The  President  had  the  air  of  refraining  to  say 
something  which  was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue. 

"Have  you  ever  thought  of  the  public  service?  " 

Zach  stared,  as  though  not  understanding  the 
question. 

"You  know  the  French  language,"  went  on  the 
Chief  Magistrate  with  the  tone  of  one  who  convinces 
himself.  "You  seem  familiar  with  history  and  in- 
ternational law,  no  very  common  accomplishments. 
I  don't  see  why  —  twenty -two  years  old,  you  say 
—  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  be  able  to  make 
yourself  useful  at  some  of  our  embassies  abroad." 

The  flush  of  delight  in  the  listener's  face  did  not 
escape  the  shrewd  eyes  which  were  so  closely  scan- 
ning it. 

"I  will  think  it  over.  I  will  see  what  can  be 
done.  We  must  have  another  talk.  Meantime," 
the  President  got  up,  and  his  visitor,  taking  the 
hint,  followed  suit,  "  say  nothing  about  this  Florida 
matter.  You  will  hear  a  great  deal  of  loose  talk 
about  the  town  here,  but  —  where  are  you  stay- 
ing?" 

"At  O'Neal's." 

"You  could  not  be  in  a  worse  place,"  cried  His 
Excellency,  with  a  look  of  annoyance.  "That 
house  is  a  regular  wasp's  nest.  Take  care,  then! 
Not  a  word  of  this  business  yonder.  You  will  need 
to  keep  a  guard  on  your  tongue,  and  the  least  said 
the  better." 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

RETURNING  to  the  tavern,  Zach  spent  the  rest  of 
the  day  thinking  over  his  conversation  with  the 
Chief  Magistrate.  There  were  points  in  it  which 
he  did  not  understand,  and  which,  to  his  annoyance, 
did  not  become  clear  in  meditating  upon  them. 
Certain  words,  certain  looks,  certain  tones  of  the 
President,  seemed,  considered  now  in  retrospect, 
bristling  with  insinuation  and  hopelessly  inscrutable. 
In  result,  the  whole  experience  proved  harassing. 
One  thing  which  he  ought  to  have  discovered  re- 
mained as  doubtful  as  ever,  —  the  purpose  of  the 
Government  in  sending  for  him. 

Other  questions  there  were,  no  less  vexing :  why, 
despite  his  apparent  composure,  had  there  been  such 
a  suggestion  of  anxiety  in  the  President's  manner? 
Why  had  every  mention  of  General  Jackson's 
name  been  accompanied  by  a  visible  uneasiness? 
Why,  in  fine,  had  there  been  the  gratuitous  hint  of 
foreign  employment  to  him,  the  bearer  of  grave  and 
unwelcome  charges  against  a  valued  servant  of  the 
administration  ? 

After  much  vain  pondering  over  the  matter  by 
himself,  Zach  took  Monsieur  into  counsel.  The  tell- 
tale face  of  the  little  attorney  showed  clearly  enough 
his  great  astonishment  at  certain  parts  of  the  story, 
but  he  was  very  chary  of  comment  or  advice.  He 


ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

professed  himself  unable  to  form  an  opinion  upon 
the  matter  as  presented,  and  advised  a  suspension 
of  judgment. 

This  was  certainly  safe  advice,  and  as  Mr.  Mon- 
roe had  asked  for  another  interview,  there  seemed 
nothing  for  Zach  to  do  but  to  await  His  Excellency's 
leisure. 

Meantime,  for  want  of  better  occupation,  he  in- 
terested himself  in  studying  the  new  phase  of  life 
about  him. 

The  talk  among  the  boarders  at  O'Neal's,  always 
diverting,  sometimes  proved  suggestive.  Coming 
down  late  to  breakfast  one  morning,  a  few  days 
after  his  call  at  the  White  House,  Zach  found  a  half 
dozen,  or  more  of  his  fellow-lodgers  lingering  at  the 
table. 

"I  reckon  you  Federalists  '11  keep  pooty  mum 
when  the  general  gits  up  here  next  month,"  the 
landlord's  free-spoken  daughter  was  saying. 

"No  fear  o'  the  old  fox  showing  his  head  here! " 
commented  a  member  of  Congress. 

"Ain't  there?  He  is  pooty  apt  to  show  his  head 
anywhere,  where  there  's  a  row." 

"So  you  think  there's  going  to  be  a  row  here, 
Peggy?"  asked  the  member  of  Congress,  with  a 
wink  at  his  fellows. 

"You  jest  wait  till  Congress  comes  in  an'  see! 
The  general 's  comin'  down  a  purpose  to  take  a  hand 
in  it,  too." 

"Huh!  don't  you  be  scared,  Peggy!  Old  Hick- 
ory has  had  all  the  row  he  wants  for  the  present." 

"He  is  comin',  I  tell  you.  He  has  written  to  pa 
for  a  room." 


394  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

This  indisputable  announcement  fell  like  a  bomb- 
shell upon  the  little  circle,  and  the  triumphant  Peggy 
withdrew  in  high  glee  at  the  sensation  she  had  cre- 
ated. 

Neither  Peggy's  remark  nor  its  effect  were  lost 
upon  a  certain  shy  and  silent  member  of  the  break- 
fast party.  Pondering  the  matter  slowly,  gradually, 
like  the  dawning  of  day,  a  light  was  diffused  in  his 
mind.  Perhaps  the  President  might  also  know  of 
General  Jackson's  purposed  trip  to  Washington. 
Not  impossibly  he,  too,  might  have  foreseen  the 
"  row "  likely  to  ensue  on  the  assembling  of  Con- 
gress. What  then? 

A  puzzling  question,  and  Zach  was  given  a  whole 
fortnight  to  consider  it,  during  which  he  heard  no- 
thing from  the  White  House.  Just  as  he  had  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  and  his  business  were  for- 
gotten, he  received  a  note  from  the  busy  secretary, 
summoning  him  to  another  interview  with  President 
Monroe. 

This  time  the  visitor  was  promptly  admitted. 

The  President  was  at  leisure.  His  Excellency 
had  plainly  given  some  thought  to  the  business,  for, 
besides  Zach's  memorial,  he  had  before  him  a  pile 
of  other  papers  apparently  relating  to  it. 

He  began  without  preliminary,  and  cross-exam- 
ined Zach  about  all  the  transactions  which  took 
place  in  and  around  St.  Marks  in  a  close  and  search- 
ing manner,  referring  from  time  to  time  to  the  pile 
of  papers,  which  included,  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
certain  letters,  since  famous  in  history,  written  by 
the  chief  actor  in  those  tragic  events. 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  395 

Zach  repeated  the  story  told  on  his  former  visit, 
nor  suffered  himself  to  be  shaken  a  jot  from  his 
position  by  the  ingenious  harrying  of  the  Chief 
Magistrate. 

At  last,  satisfied  or  discouraged,  the  President 
pushed  the  papers  from  him  and  remained  for  a  time 
silent.  Presently,  turning  about,  he  fastened  his 
eyes  upon  Zach,  and  proceeded  to  study  his  face 
several  minutes  without  speaking. 

"You  suggested  the  other  day,  Mr.  Phips,"  he 
at  last  said,  "  that  you  would  like  a  position  in  the 
public  service." 

"The  suggestion  came  from  you,"  was  the  blunt 
answer. 

"That  may  be, — it's  a  matter  of  no  conse- 
quence. The  point  is,  you  expressed  a  willingness 
to  accept  such  a  position." 

Zach  bowed,  with  an  embarrassed  look. 

"I  think  at  the  time  I  spoke  of  France,  or  the 
Continent,  perhaps  on  account  of  your  knowledge  of 
the  French  language;  but  I  have  since  heard  that 
Mr.  Rush  is  in  need  of  an  under-secretary  "  — 

"Mr.  Rush!" 

"Our  minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  James." 

"You  mean  London?"  demanded  Zach,  in  a 
fluster. 

"London,  of  course,"  said  the  President,  puzzled 
at  his  visitor's  sudden  emotion.  "It  is  an  excellent 
place,  with  a  prospect  of  promotion,  and  I  don't 
know  why,"  contemplatively,  "you  would  not  do. 
You  have  certain  traits  of  character,"  continued  the 
Chief  Magistrate,  as  if  thinking  aloud,  "which 


396  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

would  be  of  value.  You  have  had  a  varied  experi- 
ence, and,"  picking  up  the  memorial  from  the  desk 
before  him,  "if  this  is  your  work,  you  write  an  ex- 
cellent hand,  —  no  contemptible  accomplishment  in 
a  secretary." 

The  President  paused  with  an  expectant  air,  as  if 
to  allow  the  recipient  of  this  flattering  offer  a  chance 
to  express  his  thanks.  The  recipient,  his  forehead 
contorted  with  a  scowl  of  perplexity,  stood  without 
a  word. 

The  speaker,  with  a  growing  look  of  surprise, 
went  on,  — 

"Mr.  Rush  is  my  personal  friend.  A  word  from 
me  would  suffice.  In  your  case,  contrary  to  my 
custom,  I  am  willing  to  waive  the  matter  of  re- 
ferences, so  strongly  am  I  impressed  with  your 
fitness." 

Zach  was  still  silent. 

"Well,  sir,  what  do  you  say?  " 

"I  cannot  accept  it." 

"  Sir !  "  The  Chief  Magistrate  clearly  did  not  be- 
lieve his  ears. 

"Your  Excellency  will  excuse  me.  I  have  been 
thinking  over  this  matter  since  I  was  here.  I  have 
heard  some  talk  about  the  Seminole  War  and  Gen- 
eral Jackson's  behavior, —  a  good  deal  of  talk.  I 
hear  that  the  matter  is  coming  up  in  Congress,  that 
the  general  is  coming  here,  and  that  there  is  likely 
to  be  a  great  row  about  it." 

"What  then?" 

"  Why,  I  know  a  good  deal  about  this  matter,  — 
things   the   public    don't  know.     I  know  General 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  397 

Jackson  was  all  wrong;  that  he  acted  more  like  a 
bandit  than  a  soldier." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  if  I  accept  this  position,  at  your  —  at  the 
hands  of  the  Government,  they  '11  say  't  was  a  price 
paid  for  holding  my  tongue." 

For  a  fleeting  moment  the  President  looked  dis- 
concerted. It  cost  him  an  effort  to  rally,  and  when 
he  did,  it  was  with  an  assumption  of  dignity  in 
striking  contrast  to  his  former  simplicity  of  manner. 

Looking  at  Zach  a  moment,  he  considered  what 
course  to  pursue.  He  decided  promptly,  and  with 
characteristic  shrewdness.  "Mr.  Phips,  take  this 
chair,  please,"  pointing  to  a  seat  quite  close  to  him. 
"I  want  to  have  a  little  confidential  talk  with  you." 

Zach  moved  as  requested. 

"My  dear  young  man,  I  need  n't  tell  anybody  who 
has  seen  so  much  of  the  world  as  you  that  in  Gov- 
ernment matters,  in  affairs  relating  to  the  interests 
of  a  great  people,  we  have  to  deal  with  questions 
largely,  that  is,  in  a  broad  and  comprehensive  man- 
ner. We  must  sink  out  of  sight  all  personal  con- 
siderations, and  think  only  of  the  honor  and  welfare 
of  the  nation." 

The  listener  looked  as  if  put  upon  his  guard  by 
this  exordium. 

"Now,"  continued  the  watchful  statesman,  "in 
regard  to  this  Florida  matter,  General  Jackson 
may  have  been  all  right  or  all  wrong  ;  that  is  en- 
tirely aside  from  the  point.  The  point  is,  that  the 
whole  affair  is  now  a  matter  of  history.  The  harm 
(if  harm  there  was)  is  done  and  cannot  be  undone. 


398  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

It  came  about,  moreover,  —  by  what  may  prove  to 
have  been  a  misunderstanding,  —  under  color  of 
authority  from  the  United  States  Government. 
Meantime,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  General  Jack- 
son has  done  his  country  a  great,  an  inestimable 
service.  Granting,  then,  that  there  was  no  want 
of  good  faith  in  anybody  concerned,  we  are  bound, 
as  patriots  and  statesmen,  to  accept  and  justify  the 
general's  action  as  best  we  can." 

Zach  looked  unconvinced  by  this  clever  presenta- 
tion of  the  case. 

"It  may  help  us  to  a  decision  to  consider,"  pur- 
sued the  President,  "that  whatever  General  Jack- 
son did,  he  thought  he  was  right;  that  there  was  no 
intentional  wrong-doing.  For  the  rest,  it  behooves 
us  to  leave  the  Spanish  and  British  Governments  to 
fight  their  own  battles." 

The  listener  hitched  in  his  chair,  and  looked 
troubled. 

"It  becomes  us  furthermore,  as  Americans  and 
patriots,  —  in  case  we  are  wrong,  which  I  by  no 
means  concede,  —  to  make  the  best  we  can  of  a  bad 
bargain.  It  is  not  a  matter,  mind  you,  of  protect- 
ing General  Jackson,  but  of  safeguarding  the  honor 
and  dignity  of  the  United  States." 

With  a  look  of  increased  perplexity,  Zach  sat 
pondering  the  matter  for  several  minutes.  Then 
suddenly  asked,  — 

"But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  the  question  of 
my  going  to  England?  " 

"Much,  or  nothing  at  all,  as  the  case  happens  to 
turn.  I  will  not  disguise  from  you  that  there  is 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  399 

likely  to  be  a  very  rigid  inquiry  into  this  business. 
Everybody  who  can  throw  any  light  on  it  will  be 
dragged  to  the  witness-stand,  where  they  will  be 
handled  without  gloves.  If  you  stay  about  here, 
your  knowledge  of  and  participation  in  the  matter 
can  hardly  remain  a  secret,  and  you  cannot  hope  to 
escape." 

"It  is  the  farthest  from  my  intention  to  escape," 
a  little  haughtily. 

"Very  true,  very  true;  but  the  story  you  tell,  — 
very  graphic  and  pertinent  as  it  is,  —  instead  of 
helping  things  to  a  settlement,  will  tend  rather  to 
embroil  us  in  a  useless  and  damaging  discussion,  of 
which  England  and  Spain  will  not  fail  to  take  in- 
stant advantage." 

"But  my  duty"- 

"  Tut,  tut ;  you  have  no  duty  but  the  duty  of  si- 
lence. You  have  to  play  but  one  part :  the  part  of 
a  patriot  who  serves  his  country  in  the  hour  of  her 
need.  It  is  veritably  an  hour  of  need,  an  hour  for 
cool  heads,  for  calm  forbearance,  for  caution,  for 
self-restraint.  This  may  well  prove  a  graver  busi- 
ness than  it  seems.  Without  the  wisest  handling  it 
is  capable  of  leading  to  a  war  with  one  or  both  of 
these  foreign  nations.  Are  you  beginning  to  see 
my  meaning?  " 

The  listener  nodded  with  a  look  of  reservation. 

"With  regard  to  you,  your  acceptance  of  this 
position  is  a  small  thing,  a  minor  matter,  and  quite 
independent  of  this  public  business.  Somebody  has 
to  be  appointed.  I  find  in  you  every  qualification 
for  the  position.  On  that  ground,  and  in  regard 


400  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

for  your  meritorious  service  in  the  navy,  I  appoint 
you." 

Swallowing  drop  by  drop  this  specious  draught, 
Zach  felt  the  virus  of  temptation  working  in  his 
veins. 

Noting  this  effect,  the  President  shrewdly  put  an 
end  to  the  interview. 

"Take  time  to  think  it  over,  Mr.  Phips,"  rising 
and  offering  his  hand;  "there  is  no  pressing  haste. 
It  is  not  a  step  to  be  taken  in  the  dark.  Good 
morning.  Let  me  know  when  you  make  up  your 
mind!" 

It  proved  no  easy  thing  for  Zach  to  make  up 
his  mind.  His  mind  was  not  in  good  malleable 
trim.  It  seemed  to  grow  fixed  and  stiffened  in 
doubt.  It  needed  impulse  or  illumination  from 
without. 

Monsieur,  of  course,  seemed  the  natural  resource, 
but  the  cautious  little  attorney  had  shown  such  re- 
serve on  the  first  consultation  as  to  discourage  fur- 
ther confidences.  The  truth  is,  Monsieur  was  him- 
self engaged  on  a  business  so  difficult  and  delicate 
that  he  could  not  afford  to  antagonize  any  strong 
influence  by  taking  sides  on  so  absorbing  a  matter 
as  the  Florida  question. 

Moreover,  he  was  very  busy.  He  had  intermina- 
ble depositions  to  copy  relating  to  the  destruction 
of  the  Basswood  estate.  In  this  work,  Zach,  hav- 
ing nothing  else  to  do,  volunteered  his  services, 
which  Monsieur  only  too  gladly  accepted. 

Thus  it  happened  that  he  was  in  Monsieur's  room 
a  good  part  of  every  day.  The  Frenchman's  papers 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  401 

and  letters  lay  open  to  his  inspection.  Preoccupied 
with  his  own  affairs,  he  had  no  curiosity  as  to  his 
friend's,  and  mechanically  copied  the  page  before 
him  without  a  thought  as  to  its  significance. 

Coming  in  one  day  after  dinner  to  resume  work, 
he  found  an  extra  leaf  in  Monsieur's  handwriting. 
Was  it  to  be  inserted?  From  the  opening  clause  it 
was  impossible  to  decide.  He  read  on.  Presently 
he  started  as  if  stung.  His  eyes  grew  bright  with 
excitement.  The  blood  rushed  to  his  head.  He 
had  been  reading  a  passage  from  a  private  letter 
which  the  lawyer  had  left  open  and  unfinished  on 
the  table :  — 

"  With  all  these  men  and  influences  in  your  favor 
I  hope  for  the  best  results  from  the  incoming  Con- 
gress. You  may  count  upon  my  taking  advantage 
of  every  point  in  your  interests.  For  the  rest,  I  am 
glad  to  hear  of  your  decision  to  remain  in  London. 
I  am  sure  it  will  prove  best  for  your  health  and 
comfort.  It  makes  me  feel  old  to  hear  of  Sylvia's 
appearance  in  society.  How  the  years  fly  ! 

"  '  Qui  sait  si  nous  serons  demain  !  ' 

"Ah,  mon  ami,  what  success  she  will  have! 
What  hearts  she  will  wring!  Tell  the  petite  she 
has  another  father  here  who  will  rejoice  in  her  tri- 
umphs! " 

The  impulse  and  illumination  from  without  had 
been  found.  Next  day  Zach  announced  to  Presi- 
dent Monroe  his  determination  to  go  to  London  as 
Mr.  Rush's  secretary. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

IN  contempt  of  question,  coincidences  sometimes 
occur  in  real  life  as  well  as  in  fiction.  The  fact, 
therefore,  that  Zach  on  the  very  day  he  announced 
his  decision  to  President  Monroe  received  by  the 
morning's  mail  three  letters,  should  be  thought  no 
more  remarkable  than  that  some  mere  hero  of  a 
novel  should  have  received  them  to  help  out  the 
exigencies  of  the  plot. 

Zach  himself,  to  be  sure,  was  not  a  little  aston- 
ished. It  was  indeed  a  very  unusual  occurrence, 
inasmuch  as  weeks  and  months  often  rolled  by,  dur- 
ing which  the  postman  seemed  to  have  forgotten  his 
existence. 

The  three  letters  —  in  appearance  there  were  but 
two,  for  Sandy's  contained  an  inclosure  —  proved 
each  in  its  different  way  of  vital  interest.  The  first 
opened  was  from  the  Boston  postmaster,  announcing 
that  he  had  received  a  very  fair  offer  for  the  malt- 
house  property,  which  as  an  experienced  dealer  in 
real  estate  he  seriously  advised  should  be  accepted. 

Sandy's  letter,  which  came  next,  was  on  the  very 
same  subject,  but,  oddly  enough,  to  quite  a  different 
effect.  It  was  written  in  apparent  excitement,  and 
was  needlessly  discursive,  but  the  gist  of  it  may  be 
found  in  the  following  passage,  — 

"I  begin  to  think  the  old  man  knowd  what  he 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  403 

was  a-doin  of,  makin  that  will.  I  mean  about  that 
land  of  yourn.  They  re  arter  it  sharp;  the  post- 
master will  rite  an  tell  ye,  but  dont  do  nothin 
he  says.  He  menes  well,  but  acordin  to  my  lites, 
he  don  know  no  more'n  a  blind  porgy.  The  way 
of  it  is  this.  Soon  as  he  got  the  offer  he  sent  word 
round  to  me,  an  I  thought  it  sounded  all  rite,  too, 
but  that  very  afternoon,  I  was  down  to  White  & 
Co.s,  the  fokes  that  air  handlin  our  coton,  an  we 
fell  a  talkin  about  things,  an  I  sed  Boston's  gittin 
to  be  a  big  town,  an  sez  he, —  the  old  man  White 
was  talkin, — Yes,  tis,  but  nothin  to  what  its  goin 
to  be.  New  wharves  is  goin  to  be  built  on  all  this 
land  round  here.  Dock  Square  is  goin  to  be  cov- 
ered with  big  warehouses.  Sho  !  sez  I.  Sure  as 
fate,  sez  he.  Theres  two  big  blocks  a-goin  up  on 
this  side,  an  some  pooty  sharp  fokes  is  tradin  for 
that  ther  land  over  yender,  pintin  his  finger  right 
over  to  your  property.  I  guess  you  dont  want  no 
hint  after  that,  to  know  what  to  do.  I  forgot  to  tell 
ye  a  letter  come  for  ye  a  spell  ago,  from  New  Or- 
leans, an  I  stick  it  in  here." 

The  New  Orleans  letter  was  written  in  an  angu- 
lar, unpracticed  hand,  and  was  very  brief :  — 

KIND  FRIEND,  —  A  word  comes  to  me  that  you 
go  not  to  Nassau ;  that  you  go  far  north,  to  the  land 
of  the  Algonquins;  that  you  come  back  no  more. 
My  people  have  faded  away.  The  Place  is  empty, 
and  nothing  is  heard  but  the  song  of  the  river  and 
the  voice  of  the  winter  wind  which  says  to  me,  Go, 
follow  on  to  the  world  of  spirits. 


404  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

White  men  come  and  go  away,  but  there  is  no 
word  for  Malee,  no  voice  like  that  of  my  friend, 
which  I  hear  always  in  the  sunshine,  on  the  hills, 
in  the  tree-tops,  at  night  when  the  breath  of  the 
Great  Spirit  moves  them.  "Will  that  voice  never 
sound  in  my  ears  again?  I  wait. 

Excited  not  a  little  by  the  first  two  letters,  Zach 
found  in  the  third  a  distraction.  It  served  as  a 
counter-irritant.  He  was  very  much  moved  by  it, 
but  whether  emotionally  or  intellectually  was  not  at 
once  apparent.  His  face  showed  signs  of  perplex- 
ity, of  annoyance  mingled  with  profound  compas- 
sion. He  cut  short  his  packing  and  walked  the 
floor ;  he  went  down  to  dinner  with  a  moody  face, 
and  gave  no  heed  to  the  lively  chatter  about  him. 

Going  back  to  his  room,  he  spent  the  whole  after- 
noon answering  the  letter.  He  began  by  telling  of 
his  new  plans  of  life ;  of  his  approaching  departure, 
and  the  uncertainty  of  his  return.  He  then  went 
on  to  repeat  the  excellent  advice  he  had  before  given 
to  his  correspondent,  to  wit,  that  she  should  return 
to  her  own  people  and  busy  herself  with  the  welfare 
and  interests  of  her  tribe.  He  added  some  kind 
and  sympathetic  words  expressive  of  his  interest  in 
her  happiness,  and  concluded  by  regretting  that  such 
a  vast  distance  was  henceforth  to  separate  him  from 
so  good  and  so  faithful  a  friend. 

Having  dispatched  this  admirable  letter,  his  fore- 
head straightway  cleared.  A  load,  as  it  seemed, 
was  taken  from  his  mind,  and  he  addressed  himself 
with  returning  cheerfulness  to  the  preparations  for 
his  departure. 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  405 

Early  the  following  morning,  he  went  again  to 
wait  upon  Mr.  Monroe.  The  President  received 
him  with  an  air  almost  benignant,  and  when  handing 
him  his  credentials,  added  a  word  of  friendly  advice. 

While  Zach  stood  listening  in  an  attitude  of 
respectful  attention,  his  roving  eye  fell  upon  another 
letter  lying  upon  the  table,  directed,  "Hon.  Richard 
Rush,  United  States  Minister,  near  the  Court  of 
St.  James,  London,  England." 

Here  was  his  first  lesson  in  practical  diplomacy. 
He  learned  it  with  a  readiness  which  augured  well 
for  his  future  success.  In  his  hand  was  the  make- 
believe,  there  on  the  desk  was  the  real  letter  of  in- 
troduction. He  was  so  devoured  with  curiosity  to 
know  how  they  differed,  that  he  heard  nothing  of  the 
Chief  Magistrate's  parting  homily. 

Next  day  Monsieur  stood  upon  the  porch  with 
Zach  when  the  stage-coach  rattled  up.  As  he  bade 
his  young  friend  an  affectionate  good-by,  he  drew 
forth  a  thick  packet  directed  to  Falconer,  which 
he  asked  Zach  to  deliver  in  person  on  arriving  in 
London. 

Zach  flushed  and  hesitated,  but  the  preoccupied 
little  attorney,  never  dreaming  of  any  objection,  had 
already  thrust  the  packet  into  his  hands  in  such  a 
matter-of-course  way  that  it  was  impossible  to  refuse. 

Nothing  happened  to  signalize  his  journey  to 
Boston.  On  arriving,  he  lost  no  time  in  hunting 
iip  Sandy,  who  between  his  delight  at  seeing  his 
friend  so  unexpectedly  returned,  and  his  struggle  to 
maintain  a  seamanlike  composure,  swallowed  his 
quid,  thereby  bringing  on  a  paroxysm  of  coughing 


406  ZACDARY  PHIPS. 

which  prevented  him  from  returning  Zach's  noisy 
salute  in  any  other  way  than  by  a  vise-like  grip  of 
the  hand. 

Afterwards,  in  a  mutual  interchange  of  confi- 
dences over  their  evening  meal  of  fresh  lobster,  cold 
boiled  beef,  ale,  and  ship's  bread,  in  the  cabin  of  the 
"Malviny,"  the  skipper's  stoicism  was  put  to  a  still 
severer  test  on  learning  Zach's  purpose  of  going 
abroad. 

"Wall,  Bub,  it's  all  right,  I  s'pose;  it's  nateral 
enough  fer  you  to  want  ter  go,  an'  I  guess  ye  'd 
better.  Fact  on  't  is,  nobody  ever  knows  what  he 
doos  want  tel  he  has  knocked  round  an'  bumped  up 
agin  things  hisself.  But  I  've  ben  through  it,  an' 
I  tell  ye,  youngster,  th'  ain't  no  better  country  'n 
ourn,  an'  th'  ain't  no  better  fokes  now'eres  than 
our  own  fokes." 

Thereupon  Zach  explained  as  fully,  perhaps,  as  he 
had  acknowledged  them  to  himself,  his  motives  and 
purpose  in  going  abroad.  It  is  significant  that  he 
did  not  include  in  this  explanation  all  the  facts  re- 
lating to  his  appointment.  Happily,  it  seemed  a 
matter  of  course  to  the  skipper  that  Zach  should  step 
without  aid  or  influence  from  one  honorable  employ- 
ment to  another. 

Next  morning  betimes,  in  company  with  Sandy, 
Zach  went  around  again  to  view  the  malthouse 
property.  With  the  confirmatory  hint  from  White 
&  Co.,  the  place  now  took  on  quite  a  different  as- 
pect. The  whole  neighborhood  bristled  with  oppor- 
tunities. Progress  lurked  in  every  dirty  alley  round 
about,  ready  to  stalk  forth  and  to  convert  the  squalid 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  407 

neighborhood  into  the  most  flourishing  commercial 
quarter  of  the  town. 

Sandy,  who  in  his  letter  had  shown  a  keen  in- 
terest in  the  matter,  now,  in  speculating  upon  the 
probabilities  of  value  under  the  changed  conditions, 
became  feverishly  excited,  lapsed  into  a  profound 
silence,  put  in  quid  after  quid,  and  strode  restlessly 
over  the  lot  in  a  futile  effort,  as  it  seemed,  to  sat- 
urate it  with  tobacco  juice. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  wharf,  they  dropped  «in  to 
see  the  postmaster.  That  worthy  functionary,  in- 
terrupted in  the  act  of  taking  a  first  reading  of  one 
of  the  foreign  journals  passing  through  the  office, 
delayed  not  to  introduce  the  subject  of  the  real 
estate,  and  repeated  with  unction  the  advice  given 
in  his  letter. 

The  skipper  was  seized  with  another  fit  of  cough- 
ing, and  fidgeted  in  his  chair. 

He  had  no  need.  Zach,  recalling  the  method  of 
Peter  Cook,  behaved  with  the  aplomb  of  a  veteran. 
As  the  postmaster  became  warm  in  urging  his  opin- 
ion the  owner  grew  more  indifferent,  and,  indeed, 
quite  disinclined  to  part  with  the  estate,  referring 
with  great  effect  to  the  sentiments  and  associations 
connected  with  a  spot  known  to  him  from  earliest 
childhood. 

Sandy,  who  had  put  in  three  quids  in  five  minutes, 
here  emitted  a  sound  like  that  of  stifled  cachin- 
nation,  and  strode  in  some  embarrassment  to  the 
window. 

They  came  away,  leaving  the  postmaster  filled  with 
apprehensions  that  the  bargain  would  fall  through. 


408  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

The  Peter  Cook  tactics  bore  speedy  fruit.  Early 
next  day  the  postmaster  came  to  pay  them  a  visit 
on  board  the  "Malviny." 

Zach  was  seated  on  deck,  smoking  his  pipe. 
Sandy,  noting  the  arrival,  lost  no  time  in  working 
round  into  earshot. 

The  visitor,  after  remarking  that  it  was  a  fine 
day,  that  it  was  unusual  weather  for  the  season,  that 
the  wind  was  going  to  get  round  into  the  northwest 
by  and  by,  suddenly  broke  out,  — 

"'Bout  that  business  yesterday,  cap'n." 

"Well?" 

"Haven't  made  up  your  mind  to  take  my  offer 
yet,  I  s'pose?  " 

Zach  shook  his  head. 

"Do  you  want  to  sell  that  property,  anyway?" 

"Hm-m!"  Zach  yawned  most  effectively.  "I 
don't  know.  I  ain't  in  any  great  hurry  about  it. 
Perhaps  I  'd  better  let  it  be  till  I  get  back." 

"You  goin'  away?" 

"Yes." 

"Goin'  to  be  gone  some  time?" 

"No-o;  well,  that  is,  two  or  three  years,  per- 
haps." 

"Don't  say!"  a  faint  trace  of  agitation  on  the 
part  of  the  postmaster.  "Goin'  far  off?" 

"To  Europe!" 

"The  d — er  —  deuce!  That  is  a  long  way  off. 
Well,  now,  Mr.  Phips,  it 's  none  of  my  business, 
but  I  should  think  you  'd  want  to  get  rid  of  that 
property  before  you  went.  I  —  it 's  rather  risky. 
I  don't  know  what  Mr.  — what  my  party  will  say, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  409 

but  I  '11  take  the  responsibility  of  offering  —  er  — • 
four  thousand  dollars.  Come,  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

Zach  shook  his  head  with  a  pitying  smile,  which 
would  have  done  credit  to  Peter  Cook  himself. 

"Oh,  well,  then,  I  've  got  through.  I  guess  you 
don't  want  to  sell  very  bad." 

Zach  and  the  skipper  exchanged  glances  as  the 
discomfited  factor  withdrew,  and  refilled  their  pipes. 

"I  '11  gin  thet  feller  half  an  hour  ter  come  back," 
said  Sandy,  pressing  down  the  bulging  coals  in  .the 
top  of  his  pipe. 

But  the  skipper  had  underestimated  the  agent's 
adroitness ;  it  was  full  three  hours  before  he  reap- 
peared. The  interview  which  followed  thereupon 
was  very  short. 

"Mr.  Phips,"  said  the  factor,  coming  straight  to 
the  point,  "I  've  come  back  to  make  you  one  more 
offer  for  that  prop'ty.  My  folks  say  they  '11  give 
forty -five  hundred  dollars.  It 's  a  heap  of  money, 
an'  I  don't  know  what  they  're  thinkin'  of,  but 
that 's  their  lookout." 

"I  won't  take  it,"  said  Zach  promptly. 

The  postmaster  stared  in  real  or  affected  amaze- 
ment. 

"Refuse  four  thou-s-a-n-d  five  hundred  dollars!  " 
he  at  last  ejaculated,  with  a  truly  artistic  accent  and 
expression. 

"Yes." 

Sandy,  hacking  away  at  his  plug,  seemed  in  doubt 
whether  to  fill  his  pipe  or  his  mouth,  but  ended  in 
filling  both. 

"Oh,  well," —  the  good  man  interjected  ironical 


410  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

little  bursts  of  laughter  between  every  two  or  three 
words,  with  an  effect  which  can  be  only  hinted  at,  — 
"as  I  said  before,  you  don't  want  to  trade  very  bad. 
I  don't  see  what  you  expect.  P'raps  you  think 
you  've  got  a  gold  mine  over  there.  However, 
that  's  your  business;  this  is  a  free  country,  and 
you  can  do  as  you  like.  What  ship  you  goin'  in? " 

"The  Twin  Sisters." 

"When  does  she  sail?" 

"Expects  to  get  off  to-morrow." 

"To-morrow! " 

A  little  look  of  consternation  passed  over  the  post- 
master's seasoned  face  as  he  stepped  down  into  his 
boat.  Sandy  looked  after  him,  as  he  rowed  away, 
with  a  satisfied  nod,  and  went  back  to  his  work 
without  a  word  of  comment. 

Just  before  sunset,  the  boat  was  seen  coming  back 
again.  The  postmaster  looked  a  little  shamefaced, 
and  thought,  perhaps,  to  give  his  visit  a  less  signifi- 
cant look  by  remaining  in  his  boat.  He  stumbled 
a  little  over  his  explanation. 

"I  come  back  —  I  was  thinking  —  er  —  we  'd  like 
to  know,  Cap'n  Phips,  what  you  will  take  for  that 
land?" 

"Ten  thousand  dollars! " 

"Je-e-rusalem! " 

This  time  the  good  man's  astonishment  was  un- 
feigned. Rallying  in  a  minute,  with  a  feeble  laugh 
he  ejaculated,  — 

"Of  course,  you  're  joking." 

"Not  a  bit." 

Sandy,  meantime,  sat  with  averted  face  and  every 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  411 

nerve  under  iron  control,  but  it  was  evident,  from 
a  movement  under  his  whiskers,  that  the  saliva  in 
his  throat  had  all  dried  up  from  pure  agitation. 

Meantime,  the  postmaster  was  taking  his  leave, 
this  time  in  good  earnest. 

"I  say,  cap'n,"  he  projected  for  a  parting  shaft, 
"if  you  ever  do  make  up  your  mind  you  really  want 
to  sell,  let  me  know.  Good  day!  Hope  you'll 
have  a  good  voyage !  " 

"Wall,"  said  Sandy,  as  the  boat  pulled  out  of 
earshot,  "that  fish  is  tired  o'  bitin'." 

There  was  a  distinct  note  of  regret  in  the  skipper's 
voice,  and  it  was  clear  he  thought  Zach  had  carried 
his  bluffing  policy  too  far. 

Next  morning,  as  the  pair  sat  at  breakfast  in  the 
little  cabin,  word  was  brought  that  a  stranger  had 
come  aboard  to  see  Mr.  Phips. 

"Bitin'  agin,"  cried  the  skipper,  with  kindling 
eyes.  "Now,  look  out,  Bub!  don't  let  'em  slip  the 
hook  agin ! " 

Zach  finished  breakfast  at  his  leisure,  and  came 
on  deck  with  a  look  of  unconcern. 

The  stranger,  who  proved  to  be  the  postmaster's 
principal,  was  a  shrewd-looking  Boston  merchant. 
Introducing  himself  and  his  business  with  an  im- 
pressive air,  he  showed  a  disposition  to  skirmish. 
Zach  cut  him  mercilessly  short. 

"Excuse  me,  I  am  to  sail  for  England  to-day. 
My  things  are  not  yet  aboard  ship.  I  have  no  time 
to  talk.  I  gave  your  agent  my  price  for  this  land. 
I  will  not  take  a  penny  less,  and  I  will  have  no  more 
words  about  it." 


412  ZACHARY  PIIIPS. 

Whereupon,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  went  down 
again  into  the  cabin.  Sandy,  who  still  sat  at  the 
table,  looked  up  aghast  at  this  evidence  that  the 
bargain  was  again  off. 

Zach,  plunging  into  the  hurly-burly  of  his  state- 
room, began  to  pack.  Directly,  the  stranger  was 
at  his  side  again. 

"Mr.  Phips,  give  me  three  minutes'  time!  " 

"Not  a  minute!" 

Sandy  looked  ready  to  explode. 

"Won't,  eh?  Well,  I  '11  take  them  whether  you 
will  or  not.  You  ask  ten  thousand  dollars  for  that 
scrap  of  land  around  there.  It 's  an  outrage,  it 's 
highway  robbery,  but  I  've  got  to  have  it,  and  I  '11 
give  the  money.  Come  along,  then,"  he  concluded 
peremptorily.  "Come  to  the  Squire's  and  get  the 
deed  made! " 

"Not  I!  "  said  Zach  composedly. 

"Eh?" 

"I  told  you  I  have  no  time  to  spare,  and  I  will 
not  go  a  step  out  of  my  way  to  make  this  bargain." 

The  tradesman  looked  apoplectic.  Sandy,  unable 
longer  to  contain  himself,  got  up  and  strode  out  of 
the  cabin. 

"If  you  bring  the  deed  and  money  to  me  here 
before  I  get  ready  to  leave,  well  and  good,"  contin- 
ued Zach,  busily  stowing  away  shirts  and  shoes  and 
underwear  indiscriminately;  "I  will  sign  it,  and 
the  land  is  yours ;  otherwise  you  are  giving  yourself 
unnecessary  trouble." 

With  a  loud  oath  the  stranger  bounced  out  of  the 
cabin.  In  two  minutes  more  he  was  clear  of  the 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  413 

schooner.  In  an  hour  he  was  back  again  with  deed 
and  money.  In  twenty  minutes  the  thing  was  done, 
Zach,  with  commendable  prudence,  having  first  read 
the  deed  and  counted  the  money. 

Thus  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  from  a  poor  man 
he  had  become  rich.  He  felt  a  sudden  giddiness  as 
he  stood  watching  the  boat  row  away,  and  walking 
aft,  sat  down  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

AT  the  entrance  to  Portsmouth  Harbor,  Zach  re- 
ceived his  first  impression  of  England, —  a  profound 
and  striking  impression. 

Besides  the  docks  and  storehouses,  which  were 
surprising  enough,  there  was  the  forest  of  merchant 
shipping  flying  the  flags  of  every  nation ;  there  were 
the  amazing  arsenals,  batteries,  and  fortifications, 
and  the  formidable  array  of  line-of -battle  ships  and 
frigates.  For  the  first  time  he  realized  the  hardihood 
of  the  Yankees  in  daring  to  go  to  war  with  a  nation 
having  resources  like  these.  All  the  more,  he  re- 
flected with  pride  upon  the  result. 

Once  landed,  he  lost  no  time  in  getting  up  to 
London,  where  upon  recommendation,  he  took  tem- 
porary lodgings  in  a  quiet  house  in  Conduit  Street. 

London  awoke  in  him  a  wonder  and  admiration 
which  caused  Portsmouth  to  be  forgotten.  The 
shops  and  houses,  standing  in  actual  contact,  and 
extending  for  miles  in  every  direction ;  the  endless, 
never-ceasing,  never-lessening  crowds,  coming  no 
one  knew  whence  and  going  no  one  cared  whither; 
the  deafening  roar  of  the  endless  procession  of  vehi- 
cles, from  the  humble  push-cart  of  the  bawling  chap- 
man to  the  thundering  coach  and  six,  manned  by 
fat  drivers  in  triangular  hats  and  tassels,  and  sleepy 
footmen  sporting  cockades  and  canes,  —  never  had 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  415 

Zach's  provincial  wit  conceived  of  anything  so 
grand,  so  droll,  so  infinitely  diverting. 

In  the  houses,  he  was  greatly  disappointed.  Did 
fine  lords  and  ladies  and  people  of  fashion  live  in 
these  plain,  smoky  brick  dwellings?  He  hardly 
knew  what  he  expected,  but  it  was  certainly  some- 
thing quite  different  from  these. 

In  the  way  of  public  buildings  there  were  some 
satisfying  exceptions,  as  he  found  later  when  he  had 
occasion  to  cross  from  the  West  End  and  go  into 
the  city  proper  by  way  of  Temple  Bar,  and  along 
Fleet  Street,  Cheapside,  and  Ludgate  Hill,  in  the 
direction  of  the  Tower,  where  the  Lord  Mayor's 
palace,  the  Bank,  India  House,  and  the  Royal  Ex- 
change surpassed  his  largest  expectations. 

His  first  bewildering  impressions  having  in  time 
given  way  to  better  regulated  notions  of  the  life 
about  him,  he  saw  the  need  in  some  sort  of  adapting 
himself  to  it. 

With  this  intent  he  went  on  a  round  of  the  trades- 
men, and  was  duly  decked  out  in  a  long-skirted  blue 
coat  trimmed  with  brass  buttons,  a  white  waistcoat, 
a  ruffled  shirt  of  finest  cambric,  a  standing  collar, 
a  voluminous  cravat  of  snowy  lawn,  tight  breeches, 
gaiters,  and  a  tall,  bell-crowned  hat  of  white  beaver. 

Thus  equipped,  he  set  out  one  morning  to  wait 
upon  Mr.  Rush.  He  found  him  in  a  quarter  of  the 
town  which  he  had  not  yet  seen,  namely,  Maryle- 
bone  parish,  north  of  Oxford  Road.  The  minis- 
ter's house  was  situated  on  Baker  Street,  a  locality, 
as  he  afterwards  learned,  much  frequented  by  mem- 
bers of  the  diplomatic  body. 


416  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

It  had  the  same  gloomy  aspect  as  other  parts  of 
the  town  which  he  had  seen,  on  account  of  the 
wearying  uniformity  of  its  architecture.  There 
were  everywhere  the  same  smoky  brick  houses,  to 
which  here  a  needless  sepulchral  effect  had  been 
added  by  the  dusty  iron  palings  which  guarded  the 
areas  and  the  heavy  railings  of  the  same  uncom- 
promising material  which  adorned  the  brown  stone 
doorsteps. 

Forbidding  without,  these  dingy  dwellings  had, 
as  the  visitor  presently  discovered,  an  inviting  air 
of  comfort  and  luxury  within,  with  their  white  stone 
staircases,  solid  furniture,  and  sumptuous  hangings. 

Arrived  at  the  door,  Zach  drew  forth  his  card- 
case,  —  an  elegance  which  he  had  adopted  since  his 
arrival  in  the  metropolis,  —  and,  with  a  conscious 
air  which  well-nigh  betrayed  him  to  the  footman, 
sent  up  his  name  to  Mr.  Rush. 

That  gentleman,  who  promptly  appeared,  and 
greeted  him  in  the  most  cordial  fashion,  proved  to 
be  a  handsome  man  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  ingra- 
tiating manners  and  an  unexpected  air  of  distinc- 
tion. 

As  Zach  was  to  be  immediately  attached  to  the 
minister's  person,  he  was  taken  at  once  into  the 
family,  a  servant  was  sent  to  Conduit  Street  for  his 
luggage,  and  meanwhile,  Mr.  Rush  took  the  first 
step  towards  making  him  feel  at  home  by  giving 
him  a  general  notion  of  his  duties,  the  persons  with 
whom  he  would  be  brought  in  contact,  and  the  eti- 
quette to  be  maintained  in  his  intercourse  with 
them. 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  417 

It  was  evident  from  the  curious  and  interested 
looks  with  which,  while  he  talked,  the  minister  re- 
garded his  young  secretary,  that  the  President's 
private  and  confidential  letter  had  already  been  re- 
ceived, and  Zach  felt  a  stirring  of  his  former  curi- 
osity with  regard  to  its  contents. 

"And  the  Secretary  of  State,"  said  Mr.  Rush, 
after  hearing  Zach's  account  of  his  last  interview 
with  the  President,  "did  he  intrust  you  with  any 
inclosure  for  me? " 

Zach  replied  with  a  blank  look,  and  a  shake  of 
the  head. 

"But  you  saw  —  you  called  on  Mr.  Adams  be- 
fore coming  away?  " 

"No-o." 

"  Humph !  He  knew,  of  course,  of  your  coming 
to  me  from  the  President?  " 

"I  don't  know." 

Mr.  Rush  controlled  his  arching  eyebrows,  and 
repressing  a  dawning  look  of  astonishment,  adroitly 
changed  the  subject. 

The  bewildered  secretary  reflected  with  mortifica- 
tion that  lie  was  still  in  the  A  B  C's  of  diplomacy. 

At  luncheon  the  new  attache*  was  introduced  to 
the  family:  Mrs.  Rush  and  four  small  children, 
who,  contrary  to  English  notions,  were  brought  to 
the  table  with  their  elders.  Mrs.  Rush  was  very 
gracious,  but  had  so  much  to  say  of  the  former 
secretary,  Colonel  Taylor  of  Virginia,  that  Zach 
was  filled  with  misgivings  as  to  how  he  should  ever 
succeed  in  taking  the  place  of  such  an  accomplished 
person. 


418  ZACH  AST  PH1PS. 

After  having  become  duly  settled  in  his  office,  the 
new  secretary  one  day  dressed  himself  with  great 
care,  and  went  to  wait  upon  Mr.  Falconer. 

"Grosvenor  Square,"  written  upon  Monsieur's 
package,  proved  to  be  quite  the  most  beautiful  bit 
of  London  he  had  seen ;  to  wit,  a  large  garden  of 
six  or  more  acres  laid  out  with  picturesque  walks 
and  shrubberies,  embellished  by  a  gilt  equestrian 
statue  of  George  I.,  and  surrounded  on  every  side 
by  magnificent  private  dwellings. 

Here,  next  door  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland, 
then  a  prominent  member  of  the  Cabinet,  lived 
his  old  employer,  in  the  finest  house  Zach  had  ever 
been  in. 

Falconer  showed  himself  quite  at  home  in  the 
midst  of  his  magnificence,  and  Zach  could  not  help 
thinking  how  well  his  assured  air  harmonized  with 
it  all. 

Even  the  little  touch  of  condescension  in  his  man- 
ner seemed  in  place,  as  was  also  the  indifference  with 
which,  while  promptly  recognizing  his  visitor,  he 
failed  to  note  the  metamorphosis  which  had  been 
wrought  in  him. 

Civilly  expressing  his  thanks  for  the  trouble  taken 
in  transmitting  the  packet,  he  made  no  apology 
for  opening  it.  While  examining  its  contents  he 
perfunctorily  questioned  the  bearer:  when  had  he 
arrived  in  London  ?  Was  this  his  first  visit  ?  How 
long  did  he  purpose  staying? 

To  Zach's  circumstantial  account  of  his  appoint- 
ment in  the  household  of  the  American  minister,  of 
which  he  heard  not  a  word,  he  replied  absently, 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  419 

"So,  indeed!  and  Monsieur  Lescomt,  you  left  him 
in  Washington?"  rising,  as  he  spoke,  to  ring  the 
bell. 

When  the  servant  appeared,  he  ordered  some 
wine,  which  the  visitor  on  being  served  very  stiffly 
refused. 

Not  until  he  rose  to  go  did  Zach  muster  courage, 
and  then  with  very  evident  embarrassment,  to  ask 
after  the  family. 

"Family,"  echoed  Falconer,  with  a  disconcerting 
inflection. 

"Miss  Sylvia!" 

"Miss  Falconer?     Thank  you,  she  is  well." 

Altogether,  Zach  took  his  leave  with  a  defeated 
air.  On  the  way  back  he  realized  how  long  he  had 
been  counting  on  this  interview,  and  how  much  he 
had  expected  from  it. 

He  summed  up  the  matter  in  its  bald  reality. 
He  admitted  no  illusions.  Although  civilly  re- 
ceived, he  had  been  so  effectually  snubbed  that  he 
could  never  go  again.  Before  reaching  Baker 
Street,  his  stuffed  bosom  was  seething  with  indig- 
nation, wounded  pride,  and  divers  other  disturbing 
passions. 

Moreover,  if  the  entire  truth  be  told,  combined 
with  the  heavier  emotions  above  enumerated,  there 
was  mingled  a  feeling  of  stupefaction  that  a  person 
so  glorified  by  London  finery  and  a  functionary  so 
distinguished  by  the  confidence  of  his  Government 
could  be  thus  coolly  contemned. 

Luckily,  in  his  new  position  there  was  small  lei- 
sure to  brood  upon  these  things.  Every  hour  was 


420  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

filled.  A  multitude  of  details  must  be  learned. 
The  new  secretary,  therefore,  had  perforce  to  shake 
off  his  vapors  and  to  apply  himself  with  vigor. 

He  soon  showed  his  mettle.  That  is  to  say,  in 
the  ordinary  routine  of  his  duties  he  could  be  trusted 
to  act  with  common  sense.  His  watchful  superior, 
noting  this  rarest  of  all  qualifications,  presently  be- 
gan to  take  him  into  closer  confidence  and  into  con- 
sultations upon  matters  of  moment. 

Besides  serious  official  duties  there  were  other 
and  lighter  requirements  attached  to  his  position. 
After  a  little  he  was  included  in  certain  social  invi- 
tations. Upon  occasion,  when  her  husband  was  busy 
or  indisposed,  he  escorted  Mrs.  Rush  to  routs,  to 
concerts,  or  to  the  theatre.  Participating,  too,  in 
all  domestic  festivities,  he  little  by  little  acquired  a 
familiarity  with  etiquette  which  enabled  him  to  re- 
call with  amusement  his  old  Nassau  experience. 

It  fell  to  him  one  evening  to  escort  Mrs.  Rush  to 
the  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  He  had  not  been  to 
a  play-house  before  since  he  went  to  see  Kean  in 
New  York.  He  looked  about,  with  the  eager  delight 
of  a  novice,  upon  the  brilliant  decorations  of  the 
house,  the  gayly-dressed  audience. 

Mrs.  Rush,  nodding  to  acquaintances  on  every 
side,  pointed  out  in  an  undertone  the  celebrities. 
The  secretary  did  not  heed  her;  his  eyes  were  fixed 
with  a  glare  of  indignation  upon  the  drop-curtain, 
where  were  depicted  facsimiles  of  the  flags  of  all 
the  nations  which  had  been  conquered  in  war  by 
Great  Britain.  Amongst  these  trophies  he  recog- 
nized the  stars  and  stripes. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  421 

lie  was  only  recalled  to  himself  by  the  rising  of 
the  obnoxious  curtain  and  the  entrance  upon  the 
scene  of  the  famous  Miss  O'Neil  as  Bianca.  Then, 
indeed,  everything  was  speedily  forgotten. 

When  the  curtain  at  last  fell  upon  the  third  act, 
relieved  from  the  strain  of  attention,  Zach  suffered 
his  eyes  to  wander  about  the  house,  and  bethought 
him  that  here  were  gathered  the  beauty,  wit,  and 
fashion  of  the  greatest  city  in  Europe. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Rush,  commenting  upon  the 
play,  presently  found  that  she  was  not  heeded. 
Turning  about,  she  discovered  that  the  eyes  of  her 
escort  were  riveted  upon  a  party  in  a  neighboring 
box :  an  elderly  man,  accompanied  by  a  young  and 
elegantly  dressed  woman. 

"How  beautiful!  —  do  you  know  who  she  is?" 

The  involuntary  exclamation  was  the  most  elo- 
quent form  of  tribute. 

Deaf  to  the  question,  and  oblivious  as  it  seemed 
of  the  very  presence  of  his  companion,  Zach  gazed 
as  if  transfixed  at  the  pair  in  the  box. 

After  a  little,  the  young  woman  turned  about  and 
leisurely  surveyed  the  house.  Her  eyes  fell  in  turn 
upon  the  trembling  secretary  and  calmly  passed  him 
by.  Again  they  traversed  the  circle,  and  again 
encountered  the  gaze  of  the  agitated  young  man. 
Unable  longer  to  control  himself,  he  rose  from  his 
seat. 

Directly,  a  lightning-like  change  passed  over  the 
girl's  face.  Her  cheeks  flushed.  She  too  started, 
and  barely  stifled  an  exclamation.  Again  Zach 
rose,  and  unheeding  time  or  place  stretched  out  his 


422  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

hands.  At  that  moment,  with  a  flourish  of  music, 
the  curtain  rose  upon  the  fourth  act.  Mrs.  Rush 
called  upon  her  escort  for  some  service.  His  atten- 
tion was  momentarily  distracted.  When  he  looked 
again  towards  the  box,  Sylvia  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

AMONG  the  notable  persons  with  whom  Zach  was 
brought  in  contact  through  his  position  at  the 
embassy  was  his  own  famous  compatriot,  the  presi- 
dent of  the  Royal  Academy. 

Sir  Benjamin  West  was  in  the  opinion  of  the 
day  a  genius.  Zach,  who  had  rudimentary  notions 
of  art,  knew  no  better.  Neither,  it  seems,  from 
his  own  confession,  did  Mr.  Rush  himself.  Neither, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  did  the  rank  and  file  of  his 
well-informed  and  clever  countrymen.  No  Ameri- 
can of  the  last  century,  indeed,  presumed  to  have 
an  opinion  upon  art.  It  may  seem  ground  of 
regret  to  enlightened  critics  of  our  civilization  that 
we  have  ever  shifted  from  that  wholesome  and 
tractable  state  of  innocence. 

As  the  worthy  Quaker  artist  had  in  the  course  of 
a  laborious  life  filled  some  vast  stretches  of  canvas 
with  uninspired  scenes  from  Scripture  and  history 
which  the  world  regarded  with  wonder,  he  had 
grown  correspondingly  rich  and  famous,  and  had 
thus  become  a  natural  object  of  admiration  to  his 
countrymen. 

It  chanced  upon  one  of  his  visits  to  Baker  Street 
that  the  old  gentleman  took  note  of  the  young  sec- 
retary, and  thinking,  perhaps,  to  make  use  of  his 
striking  features  and  stalwart  figure  in  a  historical 


424  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

painting  then  in  hand,  invited  him  with  such  cor- 
diality to  his  studio  that  Zach  could  find  no  good 
excuse  for  not  going. 

Accordingly,  on  his  next  outing,  he  took  occasion 
to  present  himself  at  the  artist's  door.  Entering, 
he  stopped  awestruck  near  the  threshold.  It  was  a 
scene  well  fitted  to  impress  the  layman:  the  walls 
covered  with  huge  canvases,  the  easels,  the  hangings, 
the  plaster  casts  and  other  curious  lumber  disposed 
about  a  large  room,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  the 
venerable  painter,  with  his  top-heavy  wig,  his  loose 
gown,  and  his  bent  figure,  talking  with  impressive 
emphasis  to  a  party  of  visitors. 

As  the  group  in  its  circuit  of  the  room  approached 
him,  Zach,  not  yet  cured  of  his  shyness,  busied  him- 
self with-  an  unfinished  canvas  on  the  easel,  when, 
interrupting  the  painter's  purling  discourse,  he 
heard  the  sound  of  a  familiar  voice,  and  the  next 
moment  felt  a  light  touch  upon  his  arm. 

He  turned,  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
the  breathless  Sylvia. 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke.  Meantime,  Fal- 
coner, accompanied  by  the  artist,  advanced  up  the 
room,  seeming  not  to  remark  his  daughter's  move- 
ment. Sir  Benjamin  was  the  last  to  recognize  the 
new-comer,  and  unconsciously  complicated  an  al- 
ready awkward  situation. 

"Ah!  'T  is  you!  Glad  to  see  you!  Mr. 
Phips,  Miss  Falconer,  Mr.  Falconer.  One  of  my 
own  countrymen,  sir;  a  young  gentleman  of  much 
talent,  connected  with  the  American  embassy." 

Looking   courtesy   and   benevolence   personified, 


ZACHARY  PHIP8.  425 

Falconer  bowed  from  a  Himalayan  altitude,  dropped 
an  appropriate  word,  and  passed  on.  Sylvia,  de- 
spite a  summoning  look  from  her  father,  lingered 
for  a  moment's  talk. 

"You  saw  me  at  the  theatre?" 

"  Yes  —  I  —  but  you  went  so  suddenly  "  — 

"Papa  wanted  to  go.  The  play  bored  him.  But 
I  was  so  astonished  —  I  did  n't  know  —  When  did 
you  come  to  London?  " 

"A  month  ago." 

"Why  did  you  not  let  us  know?  " 

"I  went  to  your  house." 

"To  Grosvenor  Square?" 

"To  be  sure." 

"  And  we  were  out?  " 

"No." 

"No?" 

"I  saw  your  father." 

"Papa?  and  he  did  not —  you  did  not  ask  for 
me." 

"I  did." 

"But  why"  — 

"He  said  you  were  well,  and"  — 

"And"- 

"  Bo  wed  me  out." 

"Sylvia!" 

Notwithstanding  its  calm  pitch,  there  was  an  im- 
perative note  in  the  voice. 

"Yes,  papa." 

"'T  is  time  we  were  going." 

"When  shall  we  —  where  can  I  see  you  again?  " 

"Sylvia!" 


426  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"Yes,  papa.  You  have  come  to  London  to  live, 
did  Sir  Benjamin  say?  At  the  American  embassy? 
How  did  you  ever —  Oh,  I  am  so  glad!  " 

"My  dear,  I  am  waiting." 

"  I  am  coming,  papa.  Good-by,  good-by  Za —  I 
mean  Mr.  Phips.  When  shall  we  —  when  will 
you  —  Good-by !  " 

The  Falconers  gone,  the  kindly  old  artist  gave 
Zach  the  history  of  much  of  the  misdirected  effort 
on  the  walls  about  them. 

The  explanation  was  thrown  away.  Other  voices 
were  sounding  in  the  young  man's  ears,  other 
thoughts  were  surging  through  his  brain.  London 
had  suddenly  become  a  bigger,  brighter  world. 
Muddy  streets,  cloudy  skies,  and  dingy  houses  were 
forgotten,  and  in  a  trice  its  whole  atmosphere  seemed 
aglow  with  exhilarating  promise. 

On  arriving  home  he  found  the  Rushes  about 
driving  away  to  a  dinner-party,  which  left  him  alone 
for  the  evening.  An  impulse  seized  him  to  fly 
around  to  Grosvenor  Square.  He  remembered  then 
that  London  had  another  phase:  that  it  was,  in 
effect,  a  prison ;  that  laws  stricter  than  those  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians  hedged  about  each  human  be- 
ing, and  regulated  his  outgoings  and  incomings ;  that 
far  from  being  at  liberty  to  follow  out  his  impulses, 
he  was  little  better  than  a  slave.  Here  he  stood  in 
Baker  Street,  and  yonder  in  Grosvenor  Square  sat 
Sylvia  at  the  window,  peering  wistfully  out  into  the 
night,  yet  he  could  not  go  to  her. 

Why? 

For   answer,  Falconer's  face  came   back  to  him 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  427 

with  its  expression  of  immeasurable  remoteness,  and 
straightway  there  arose  mountains  upon  mountains 
of  obstacles,  cloud-tipped  and  impassable. 

Rising  after  a  long  contemplation  of  these  moun- 
tain ranges,  he  flung  impatiently  about  the  room. 
What  was  all  this  ?  Should  he  let  himself  be  hedged 
about  and  hindered  by  intangible  nothings?  Were 
the  men  who  had  made  history  so  stayed? 

He  sat  down  again  before  the  fire,  and  followed 
out  this  new  line  of  thought.  Insensibly  his  face 
cleared,  his  eye  brightened,  and  the  lines  about  his 
mouth  became  tense  with  resolve. 

Nevertheless,  he  did  not  go  to  Grosvenor  Square, 
for  he  reflected  that  Sylvia  herself  had  not  invited 
him.  Meantime,  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  they 
would  ever  meet  again.  He  improved  all  his  out- 
ings in  frequenting  the  haunts  of  the  gay  world;  he 
rode  in  the  park,  he  went  to  the  theatre  in  vain. 
Several  weeks,  barren  of  opportunity,  thus  passed. 

One  night  he  was  included  in  the  invitations  to  a 
rout  at  Almack's.  Being  in  no  very  cheerful  frame 
of  mind,  he  was  disinclined  to  go.  He  did  not  know 
what  a  rout  was,  and  Almack's  had  a  formidable 
sound. 

On  arriving,  and  beholding  the  gayly  -  thronged 
rooms,  he  was  struck  with  dismay,  and  clung  help- 
lessly to  Mrs.  Rush's  side.  With  kind  thoughtful- 
ness  that  lady  introduced  him,  as  occasion  offered, 
to  divers  agreeable  young  women,  with  one  of  whom 
upon  his  arm  he  joined  the  promenaders. 

After  a  time  the  music  struck  up,  whereupon 
everybody  began  to  dance.  Zach  was  panic-stricken. 


428  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

Crowded  to  the  wall  by  the  hopping,  whirling  throng, 
he  cast  a  nervous  glance  at  his  partner.  She  stood 
tapping  the  floor  with  an  impatient  toe,  and  looked 
expectant.  He  had  wild  notions  of  shaking  her  off 
and  flying  the  room,  of  explaining  that  he  had  a 
wooden  leg,  or  a  tendency  to  vertigo.  Happily  a 
brisk  young  man  came  up  and  took  her  out.  With 
a  long,  deep  sigh  of  relief,  Zach  turned  to  make  his 
escape,  when  suddenly  the  crowd  parted  before  him 
and  revealed  a  vision  —  Sylvia,  in  the  splendor  of 
a  ball-room  dress. 

She  saw  him,  smiled,  waved  her  fan,  and  went 
whirling  past.  It  was  maddening.  Why  had  he 
never  learned  this  trick  of  bobbing  and  jumping 
about,  and  shaking  the  legs  to  rhythm?  Here  was 
a  new  and  unexpected  stumbling-block  in  his  path. 
How  many  more  was  he  to  encounter?  Was  his 
whole  life  to  be  filled  with  them  ? 

He  went  about  black  as  a  thunder-cloud.  Be- 
tween whiles,  in  the  dance,  he  caught  glimpses  of 
Sylvia,  gay,  smiling,  radiant.  But  that  he  felt  like 
a  bull  in  a  china  shop,  he  would  have  gone  to  her. 
He  could  not  take  her  out.  She  would  be  ashamed 
of  him  as  a  man  forever  at  fault.  He  could  not 
muster  courage. 

Meantime  he  was  at  once  gratified  and  tormented 
to  see  that  she  was  evidently  looking  out  for  him. 
He  hated  her  partners,  he  hated  the  occasion,  he 
hated  himself  for  dodging  and  skulking  to  escape 
her  notice. 

In  this  mood  he  suddenly  came  across  Falconer 
talking  with  a  group  of  elderly  men.  One  of  them 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  429 

was  a  member  of  the  Cabinet,  and  greeted  Zach. 
Falconer  regarded  him  quietly,  without  recognition. 
It  was  the  needed  touch.  With  kindling  eye  and 
tightened  lips  he  walked  directly  across  the  room 
and  took  a  seat  just  vacated  by  Sylvia's  side. 

She  received  him  with  warmest  welcome,  and  in 
answer  to  his  shamefaced  confession  that  he  could 
not  take  her  out,  simply  laughed. 

In  the  midst  of  their  talk,  Falconer  suddenly  ap- 
peared stooping  over  them. 

Murmuring  a  perfunctory  "With  your  leave" 
to  Zach,  and  acknowledging  his  presence  with  the 
formal  nod  he  would  have  bestowed  on  a  stranger, 
he  said,  — 

"Come,  my  dear,  let  us  go  down  to  supper! " 

"No,  papa,"  cried  the  spoiled  young  woman. 
"You  must  get  another  partner,  for  I  am  going  to 
supper  with  Mr.  Phips." 

Eeceiving  this  rebuff  with  apparent  equanimity, 
the  father  said,  as  he  moved  away, — 

"The  carriage  is  ordered  for  twelve,  my  dear;  I 
shall  look  you  up  a  few  minutes  before.  Try  not 
to  keep  me  waiting." 

As  for  Zach,  who  had  risen  with  a  purpose  of 
withdrawing,  he  was  so  electrified  by  this  bold  in- 
subordination that  he  well-nigh  neglected  to  take 
the  hint  which  had  been  given  him. 

Next  morning,  after  breakfast,    Sylvia  and  her 

father  had  a  talk. 

"My  pet,"  he  began,  "how  old  are  you?" 
"Truly,  do  you  not  know  the  age  of  your  only 

child?  " 


430  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"It  has  slipped  my  mind."  « 

"What  shocking  ignorance!     I  am  eighteen." 

"You  are  no  longer  a  child." 

"  Indeed  I  am  not ;  I  have  been  trying  a  long  time 
to  impress  it  upon  you." 

"'T  is  time,  then,  you  ceased  to  act  like  one." 

"Hoity  toity !     Is  this  a  scolding?  " 

"It  is  a  serious  talk,  my  dear,  and  I  want  you  to 
listen  with  attention  and  respect." 

"Don't  pucker  up  your  brows,  then!  You 
frighten  me.  Now  what  is  it?  Must  I  stop  sit- 
ting in  your  lap?  —  or  give  up  confectionery?  " 

"You  must  stop  doing  impulsive  and  ill-advised 
things  in  public.  You  must  remember  the  world 
looks  upon  you  as  a  woman,  and  will  expect  you  to 
behave  with  a  woman's  discretion." 

"Mercy  upon  us!  See  how  the  doctors  disagree! 
Mason  says  that  I  am  getting  to  be  the  very  pink  of 
propriety,  — since  I  gave  her  that  lace  cap." 

"Above  all,  you  must  be  careful  of  the  character 
and  standing  of  your  associates." 

"And  are  not  my  associates  the  same  as  your 
associates?  Papa,  dear,  you  are  getting  oracular!  " 

"You  chose  to  spend  a  good  part  of  last  evening 
in  the  company  of  a  young  man  of  whom  we  know 
nothing." 

"Who?" 

"This  young  Phips." 

"Of  whom  we  know  nothing?" 

"No;  he  came  to  us  a  waif,  a  ragamuffin.  He 
lived  with  us  as  a  servant.  He  is  not  a  fit  associate 
for  you." 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  431 

"Truly?" 

"It  was  all  very  well  on  the  plantation,  when  you 
Were  children ;  but  now,  my  love,  it  is  very  differ- 
ent. Now  it  is  most  improper,  and  I  must  request 
you  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him." 

"Poor  old  Zach!" 

"He  is  neither  poor  nor  old,  and  I  repeat,  he  is 
not  a  proper  companion  for  you." 

"Why  is  he  not?" 

"Because,"  answered  Falconer  firmly,  "he  is  not 
a  gentleman." 

Echoing  the  crushing  sentence,  Sylvia  stared 
blankly  after  her  stately  parent,  as  with  a  self-satis- 
fied air  he  disappeared  from  the  room. 

Taking  a  hint  given  him  at  Almack's,  Zach 
came  soon  after  to  call.  He  was  beaming,  he  was 
elated,  he  was  almost  garrulous,  he  was  quite  at 
ease.  As  he  sat  talking  he  gradually  became  sen- 
sible that  his  hostess  was  regarding  him  with  an 
anxious,  critical  expression,  and  that  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  there  was  an  indefinable  air  of 
constraint  in  her  manner. 

Directly  this  conviction  came  home  to  him  he 
demanded,  with  characteristic  bluntness,  the  cause. 

Sylvia  looked  startled  at  being  detected,  and 
strove  to  hedge. 

"Has  anything  happened?"  he  persisted. 

«Ye-es  —  no." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Papa  and  I  have  had  a  talk." 

"  About  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 


432  ZACHAEY  PHIP8. 

His  eyes  kindled  with  interest,  and  he  perceptibly 
nerved  himself  as  he  asked,  — 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  He  —  he  said  —  er  —  Oh,  what  fathers  are 
always  saying,  —  that  yon  —  er  —  were  not  —  but 
what  does  he  know  about  it?  —  that  you" —  She 
finished  the  halting  sentence  with  a  forced  little 
laugh. 

"What  did  he  say?"  came  the  demand  again, 
with  inexorable  emphasis. 

"  Oh  —  er  —  why,  that  you  are  not  a  proper  per- 
son for  —  er  —  my  —  me  to  associate  with.  Was 
there  anything  ever  so  absurd?" 

Slowly,  —  slowly,  the  red  blood  mounted  to  the 
listener's  face,  and  big  drops  of  sweat  stood  out 
like  beads  on  his  forehead. 

"What  else  did  he  say?" 

"I  cannot  tell." 

"I  insist  upon  knowing." 

His  eyes  burned  like  fire,  his  tone  was  imperative. 
Sylvia  took  alarm. 

"I  —  he  said  —  but,"  with  another  hysterical 
laugh,  "what  does  it  matter?" 

"Go  on!  "  he  said  fiercely. 

"  That  —  that  you  —     Oh,  no,  no,  spare  me !  " 

"  No.  I  will  hear  all,  —  I  will  hear  his  very 
words.  On  your  honor  as  a  lady,  tell  me  his 
exact  words ! " 

Constrained  by  his  growing  excitement,  she  stam- 
mered, — 

"That  you  were  not  a  gentleman." 

The  listener's  face  grew  livid.     Terrified  at  the 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  433 

effect  of  the  words  which  had  been  wrung  from  her, 
Sylvia  flooded  him  with  incoherent  and  hysterical 
solace. 

"But  you  mustn't  mind  papa.  What  does  it 
matter?  You  know  how  absurd  he  is.  He  remem- 
bers you  as  you  came  to  Basswood  with  Sandy,  in 
that  —  with  those  shabby  clothes,  and  he  doesn't 
know  how  you  '  ve  studied  —  and  —  and  all  you  have 
done  since.  He  forgets  that  you  were  in  the  navy 
—  an  officer  in  the  navy,  —  for  I  s'pose  the  Ameri- 
can navy  is  a  real  navy,  —  and  how  you  fought  on 
that  terrible  ship.  I  really  believe  he  has  forgotten 
all  about  that,  and  —  and  then  he  is  so  —  so  preju- 
diced, he  judges  everything  from  his  English  stand- 
point, and  —  and  when  he  said  that  dreadful  thing 
about  you  " 

"He  spoke  the  truth!  "  broke  in  the  listener 
sternly. 

"  Hush !  you  shall  not  say  it !    I  will  not  let  you !  " 

"I  say  it,  and  I  repeat  it,"  went  on  the  young 
man  ruthlessly.  "I  am  not  a  gentleman.  I  was 
not  born  a  gentleman.  My  father  made  beer;  my 
mother  scrubbed  her  own  floors  and  washed  her  own 
pots  and  kettles.  I  am  not  educated.  I  have  con- 
sorted all  my  life  with  ignorant,  boorish  companions. 
I  was  not  bred  a  gentleman.  I  know  little  of  your 
manners  and  etiquette.  I  am  continually  making 
blunders.  I  shall  go  on  making  blunders  till  the 
end  of  my  life." 

"Hush!  hush!  This  is  dreadful.  I  will  not' lis- 
ten to  you." 

"Your  father  is  right,"  he  continued,  rising  from 


434  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

his  seat,  with  a  face  now  ashen  white,  even  to  his 
very  lips,  "quite  right.  He  told  a  simple  truth, 
which  I  might  have  seen  for  myself."  He  strode 
to  the  door,  and,  turning,  went  on  in  a  half-stifled 
voice,  "I  am  not  a  fit  companion  for  you.  I  am 
not  a  fit  companion  for  anybody.  Master  Tileston 
and  my  step-mother  found  it  out  long  ago,  —  all 
honor  to  their  intelligence." 

He  turned  to  open  the  door.  Sylvia,  who  had 
stood  as  if  paralyzed  while  he  spoke,  now  flew  to 
intercept  him.  She  seemed  aglow  from  head  to 
foot.  Her  eyes  flamed,  her  whole  face  flamed. 
Her  voice  mounted  in  a  high,  quavering  tone  which 
threatened  every  minute  to  break. 

"You  shall  not  go  —  you  shall  not!  /  have  said 
nothing,  /have  done  nothing.  I  don't  care  what 
papa  says.  I  don't  care  what  the  whole  world  says. 
I  don't  care  whether  you  are  a  gentleman  or  not. 
I  care  only  that  you  are  a  man,  —  that  you  are  my 
friend,  —  my  faithful,  devoted  friend,  and  I  say  you 
are  a  fit  companion  for  anybody  in  the  wide,  round 
earth,  and  I  will  never,  never  let  you  go!  " 

A  dry  cough  resounded  through  the  room. 
Clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  deaf  to  everything 
but  each  other's  heart-beats,  the  two  had  not  heard 
the  opening  of  the  door.  Turning  now,  they  beheld 
Falconer  on  the  threshold,  regarding  them  with  an 
attentive  look. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

NOBODY  will  be  surprised  to  hear  that  011  the 
occasion  of  his  next  outing,  Zach  took  the  direction 
of  Grosvenor  Square. 

As  he  approached  that  fashionable  quarter,  he 
slackened  his  pace,  showed  uncertainty  of  purpose, 
and  once  or  twice  came  to  a  standstill. 

In  this  hesitating  way  he  at  last  reached  Falcon- 
er's house,  mounted  the  steps  with  a  little  spurt  of 
resolution,  and  sounded  the  knocker. 

After  waiting  patiently  for  five  minutes  and  im- 
patiently for  five  minutes  more,  during  which  long 
interval  he  took  occasion  several  times  to  repeat  his 
summons  with  emphasis,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him 
that  something  unusual  was  the  matter. 

Accordingly,  stepping  back  into  the  street,  he 
looked  up  at  the  facade  and  saw  that  the  blinds  were 
shut  and  that  the  whole  house  had  a  deserted  air. 

At  a  loss  what  to  think,  he  asked  a  coachman,  loi- 
tering near,  if  he  knew  the  whereabouts  of  the  fam- 
ily. The  man  stared  and  shook  his  head. 

Thereupon,  in  default  of  anything  else  to  do,  he 
'sat  down  upon  the  steps.  It  was  only  when  he 
awoke  to  the  fact  that  he  was  becoming  an  object  of 
attention  to  the  passers-by  that  he  arose  and  went 
stumbling  away. 

Betaking  himself  to  the  park,  he  walked  about 


436  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

vaguely  for  half  an  hour,  when,  thinking  it  behooved 
him  to  make  a  definite  effort  to  discover  Sylvia's 
whereabouts,  he  returned  to  Grosvenor  Square  and 
set  about  a  systematic  canvass  of  the  neighborhood, 
asking  at  the  servants'  doors  and  at  the  neighboring 
cabstands  for  news  of  the  family. 

The  result  was  meagre:  one  person  had  seen  a 
carriage  early  in  the  day  drive  away  from  the  door, 
laden  with  trunks. 

Obliged  to  content  himself  with  this  irritating 
scrap  of  information,  Zach  spent  a  week  in  idle  con- 
jecture. When  well-nigh  at  the  end  of  his  patience, 
there  came  to  him  one  morning  a  letter  postmarked 
"Paris."  In  a  little  fever  of  excitement  he  left  his 
work  and  hurried  away  to  his  own  room  to  read  it. 
It  ran,  — 

DEAR  ZACH,  —  Of  course  you  have  been  around 
to  Grosvenor  Square,  and  are  wondering  what  has 
become  of  us.  We  came  away  suddenly,  —  very 
suddenly  indeed,  the  morning  after  you  were  there. 
Papa  was  called  here  by  some  very  important  and 
unexpected  business.  We  started  at  such  short 
notice  that  I  had  no  time  to  let  you  know.  .  .  . 

I  thought  papa  would  say  something  to  me  about 
interrupting  us  that  day  in  the  drawing-room,  but 
he  has  never  alluded  to  it.  I  am  sure  he  has  n't  the 
least  suspicion  what  a  very  tragic  interview  it  was 
for  us.  You  remember  how  unconcerned  he  looked, 
and  how  civilly  he  shook  hands  with  you.  .  .  . 

I  long  to  see  you.  I  am  impatient  at  every  delay. 
I  count  the  hours,  but  notwithstanding  all,  I  don't 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  437 

know  where  we  shall  meet.  I  dare  not  hope  it  will 
be  very  soon.  Indeed,  I  fear  it  may  not  be  for  a 
long  time,  for  papa  says  it  is  uncertain  when  he 
shall  get  his  business  dispatched.  Oh,  that  hateful 
word  business !  What  a  tyrant  it  is,  and  what  slaves 
men  are  to  it ! 

Shall  I  tell  you  a  little  secret?  Although  it  is 
so  gay  and  brilliant  here,  with  skies  as  blue  and  sun 
as  warm  as  ever  they  were  in  America,  I  am  already 
homesick  for  dear,  dingy  old  Grosvenor  Square. 
Cannot  you  guess  why  ? 

Hoping  very  soon  to  hear  from  you  I  am 

Your  fond,  devoted,  obedient  servant, 
SYLVIA  FALCONER. 

At  odd  moments  between  his  official  tasks,  Zach 
took  occasion  to  answer  this  letter  the  very  day  it 
was  received.  Having  restrained  himself  to  the  end, 
he  could  not  forbear  adding  in  a  postscript :  — 

"You  are  right  in  your  foreboding.  I  too  fear 
it  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  meet ;  business  so 
important  as  your  father's  must  necessarily  keep 
him  a  long  time  abroad." 

A  new  subject  of  distraction  here  intervened  to 
withdraw  the  young  secretary's  attention  for  a  while 
from  his  French  correspondent. 

Ugly  rumors  concerning  the  Arbuthnot  and  Arm- 
brister  incident  began  to  leak  out.  Thereupon  the 
press  teemed  with  accounts,  high-colored  and  in- 
flammable, of  the  whole  proceeding.  The  people 
became  excited ;  the  clubs  echoed  with  fierce  tirades 
against  General  Jackson.  "Tyrant,"  "ruffian," 


438  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"murderer,"  were  among  the  milder  epithets  cou- 
pled with  his  name.  Placards  bearing  the  coarsest 
caricatures  of  him  were  carried  through  the  streets. 
Supported  by  the  popular  clamor,  the  leaders  of  the 
opposition  in  the  House  harried  the  government. 

Certain  memories  were  awakened  in  Zach's  bo- 
som, his  blood  was  fired,  and,  having  his  own 
opinion  as  to  the  justice  of  the  denunciation,  he  had 
much  ado  not  to  come  out  and  bear  witness  of  the 
truth. 

Meantime,  from  the  vantage-point  of  his  official 
position,  he  watched  with  great  interest  the  course 
of  the  ministry.  Many  and  anxious  conferences 
took  place  between  Mr.  Rush  and  Lord  Castlereagh, 
wherein  it  required  all  the  suavity  and  address  of 
the  American  minister  to  satisfy  and  reassure  the 
suspicious  secretary  of  war. 

A  remark  of  the  noble  lord's  to  Mr.  Rush  upon 
the  subject,  accidentally  overheard  by  Zach,  has  be- 
come historic,  and  is  significant  of  the  great  strain 
produced  by  the  incident.  A  war,  said  his  lord- 
ship, might  have  been  produced  on  this  occasion, 
"if  the  ministry  had  but  held  up  a  finger." 

Pending  the  negotiations,  Zach  received  a  cau- 
tionary word  from  Mr.  Rush  about  the  necessity  of 
strict  silence  on  his  part,  thereby  confirming  certain 
suspicions  as  to  the  contents  of  the  confidential  let- 
ter written  by  President  Monroe. 

From  this  engrossing  business  at  the  embassy 
Zach  was  aroused  one  morning,  like  one  awakened 
from  sleep,  by  receiving  a  note  from  Sylvia  reproach- 
ing him  for  not  answering  her  letter. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  439 

His  first  blank  look  of  astonishment  was  promptly 
succeeded  by  a  flush  of  indignation.  Suspecting 
what  had  happened,  and  eager  to  justify  himself, 
he  straightway  set  to  work  and  wrote  a  voluminous 
reply.  Having  carefully  folded  and  sealed  his  let- 
ter, he  sat  for  a  moment  silently  regarding  it ;  then, 
with  a  triumphant  gleam  in  his  eye,  took  it  to  Mrs. 
Hush  to  write  the  address. 

The  day  this  letter  arrived  in  Paris,  Falconer  sat 
yawning  over  his  newspaper  until  a  late  hour  in  the 
morning.  Despite  his  pressing  business  he  seemed 
to  have  much  leisure  time  on  his  hands,  and  a 
stranger  might  well  have  thought  he  was  at  a  loss 
for  something  to  do.  With  this  bored  look  upon 
his  face,  he  was  surprised  by  Sylvia,  who  came  flying 
into  the  room,  asking  breathlessly,  — 

"Papa,  did  you  see  a  letter  which  came  for  me 
postmarked  London?  " 

Au  almost  imperceptible  movement  took  place  in 
Falconer's  face,  but  he  answered  composedly,— 

"When?" 

"Two  or  three  weeks  ago." 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Because  it  went  astray." 

"Whom  was  it  from?  " 

Not  heeding  that  the  tables  were  being  turned  on 
her,  Sylvia  answered  frankly, — 

"It  was  from  Zach." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  my  dear,  that  you  are 
receiving  letters  from  that  young  man  without  my 
knowledge?  "  asked  Falconer,  pursuing  his  advan- 
tage. 


440  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"I  mean,"  faltered  Sylvia,  fairly  cornered  by  her 
adroit  questioner,  "I  —  I  didn't  receive  the  letter 
I  speak  of  because  it  didn't  reach  me,  and  so,"  she 
continued,  gaining  courage,  "I  am  making  a  search 
for  it,  and  came  to  ask  if  you  have  seen  it." 

"How  did  he  know  you  were  in  Paris?"  pursued 
Falconer,  evading  a  second  attack. 

"Because  I  wrote  to  tell  him." 

"You!  my  daughter!  "  in  a  tone  of  horror.  "A 
young  woman  of  your  birth  and  breeding  write  to  a 
strange  young  man  without  my  approval !  " 

However  well  pointed,  this  thrust  failed  of  its 
effect. 

"Yes,"  answered  Sylvia,  firmly.  "I  wrote  to 
tell  him  where  we  had  come,  and,"  she  went  on,  dis- 
regarding a  look  of  stern  disfavor  on  her  father's 
face,  "he  wrote  me  back  a  long  answer  which  I 
never  received." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  wrote  you  a  long  answer  ?  " 
asked  Falconer,  with  dry  severity. 

"Because  I  have  just  received  another  letter  in 
which  he  says  so." 

The  questioner  did  not  suppress  a  look  of  aston- 
ishment. 

"The  letter  I  handed  you  this  morning  was,  then, 
from  him?" 

"Yes." 

"It  was  directed  in  a  woman's  hand." 

"Yes,  he  seems  to  have  got  somebody  else  to 
direct  it,"  was  the  ingenuous  answer. 

A  faint  tinge  of  color,  scarcely  amounting  to  a 
flush,  came  and  went  in  the  father's  face. 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  441 

"And  why,  my  daughter,  did  you  not  tell  me  of 
all  this  before?" 

"  Because  you  seem  to  dislike  Zach,  and  I  thought 
it  would  be  disagreeable  to  you." 

"And  so  yo\i  already  have  secrets  from  me?" 
said  Falconer,  in  a  tone  of  reproach. 

Sylvia  hesitated.  Evidently  she  had  not  before 
thought  of  her  action  as  surreptitious. 

"And  plot  and  contrive  to  do  in  an  underhand 
way  what  you  know  I  should  disapprove." 

These  proved  home  thrusts.  The  listener  looked 
very  much  troubled,  and  only  after  several  minutes 
of  silence  answered  in  a  voice  filled  with  tears,  — 

"Dear  papa,  I  had  to  make  a  choice,  don't  you 
see?  to  accept  an  alternative:  either  to  displease 
you  or  slight  and  grieve  an  old  friend!  " 

"And  do  you  now  think  your  action  right?  " 

"Ye-es." 

"And  do  you  intend  to  continue  this  clandestine 
correspondence  despite  my  objection?  " 

Unable  longer  to  endure  his  tone  of  withering 
reproach,  Sylvia  ran  to  her  father  and  flung  herself 
into  his  arms,  ejaculating  between  her  sobs,  — 

"  Papa,  dear  papa,  don't  —  don't  —  don't  speak  to 
me  so !  It  is  terrible  to  pain  you.  I  love  you  with 
all  my  heart.  Oh,  pity  me !  Whatever  I  do,  some- 
body must  be  unhappy,  and  I  shall  be  the  most 
unhappy  of  all.  Do  you  not  think  you  can  get  over 
your  prejudices  against  Zach?  Oh,  papa,  try!  do 
try,  for  my  sake !  I  cannot  bear  to  be  unfaithful 
to  him." 

With  a  face  severe  and  unmoved,  Falconer  heard 


442  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

this  confession.  He  made  no  answer.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  failed  to  return  his  daughter's 
embrace. 

She,  overcome  with  emotion,  fled  to  her  room, 
and  shut  herself  up  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

What  Falconer's  conclusion  upon  this  matter, 
pure  and  simple,  might  have  been,  is  uncertain,  for 
his  final  decision  was  affected  by  extraneous  events. 

Several  days  after,  he  awoke  with  an  odd  feeling 
in  his  head,  which  his  valet  relieved  for  the  time  by 
applications  of  hot  water.  Later,  he  dropped  his 
fork  at  dinner,  and  to  his  surprise  was  not  able,  for 
several  minutes,  to  grasp  it. 

He  forbore  to  mention  to  anybody  these  trivial 
matters,  but  in  the  course  of  the  following  day  took 
occasion  to  visit  a  physician.  After  a  long  consul- 
tation, he  came  forth  with  a  countenance  grave  and 
concerned. 

Happily  or  unhappily,  however,  he  was  prevented 
from  brooding  upon  anything  the  doctor  had  told 
him  by  another  and  quite  different  circumstance. 

In  his  mail,  forwarded  from  London,  there  came 
next  day  a  long  letter  from  Nassau,  over  which  he 
pondered  until  he  brought  on  again  the  confused 
feeling  in  his  head  which  the  doctor  had  warned 
him  against.  Nevertheless,  he  constrained  him- 
self to  scratch  off  two  jerky  lines  in  answer  to  the 
letter. 

"  Do  not  let  Woodbine  escape  from  the  island ! 
Arrest  him  at  once,  and  wait  advices  from  Lon- 
don!" 

All  unconscious  of  her  father's  illness  and  anxi- 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  443 

ety,  Sylvia,  after  a  week's  careful  consideration, 
came  to  him  with  a  serious  air  and  said, — 

"Papa,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

"Very  good,  my  dear,  let  us  hear  it!  " 

"I  know  I  am  a  spoiled  child;  you  have  said  so, 
yourself,  and  everybody  has  said  so  ever  since  I  can 
remember." 

"Goon,  my  child." 

"  After  having  had  my  own  way  so  long,  I  have 
grown  to  think  I  must  have  it,  and  I  am  not  patient 
under  correction  or  control,  and  I  think  you  are 
partly  to  blame  for  that." 

"I  fear  you  are  right,  my  pet." 

"But,  having  become  sensible  of  this,  I  have 
tried  very  hard  of  late  to  watch  and  discipline  my- 
self in  this  respect." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  the  father 
mechanically,  but  not  without  an  inquiring  look,  as 
to  what  this  confession  might  mean. 

"What  I  want  to  say  now  is,"  pursued  his 
daughter,  intent  upon  her  purpose,  "that  hence- 
forth I  shall  try  more  and  more  to  amend  this  fault, 
but"- 

"But"  — 

"There  are  certain  very  serious  things,  —  deep 
and  sacred  things,"  she  repeated  solemnly,  "in 
which,  dear  papa,  I  am  not  willing  to  say  I  will 
always  do  as  you  wish." 

A  shadow,  gradually  darkening  and  deepening, 
settled  upon  the  listener's  face,  but  he  made  no 
movement  to  speak. 

"Things,  dearest  papa,  which  concern  not  only 


444  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

my  own  happiness,  but  another's,  —  things  which  1 
cannot  —  cannot  obey  you  in,  —  and  so  "  — 

"So?" 

"  When  one  of  these  —  these  cases  occur,  I  want 
you  to  understand  that  if  I  do  not  —  do  not  yield  to 
your  wishes,  it  is  not  because  I  do  not  love  you  just 
the  same,  but  because  I  cannot." 

Next  morning,  Falconer  announced  that  his  busi- 
ness in  Paris  was  finished,  and  that  they  were  to 
return  to  London  directly. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

FALCONER  arrived  in  London  much  the  worse  for 
his  journey.  Noticing  his  look  of  exhaustion  as 
they  sat  together  in  the  evening,  Sylvia  was  filled 
with  solicitude,  and  besieged  him  with  little  atten- 
tions. Such  a  reversal  of  their  parts  irked  him,  and 
he  sent  her  away  to  play  upon  the  piano. 

Presently,  he  astonished  her  by  breaking  out,  — 

"That  young  what  's-his-name,  my  dear,  — where 
does  he  live?" 

"Do  you  mean  Zach?" 

"It  begins  with  a  P." 

"Phips." 

"That 's  it;  you  say  he  's  still  in  London?" 

"Yes." 

"What's  his  address?" 

"He  lives  with  the  American  minister  on  Baker 
Street,"  answered  the  player,  thrumming  idly  with 
her  left  hand,  while  she  regarded  her  father  with  a 
look  of  suspense. 

"To  be  sure" — muttering — "Rush  —  humph! 
he  would  know." 

"What  do  you  say,  papa?  " 

"Nothing." 

Next  day,  notwithstanding  Sylvia's  objections, 
her  father  insisted  upon  going  to  drive.  Declining 
her  offer  to  accompany  him,  he  proceeded  straight 
to  Baker  Street  and  sent  up  his  card. 


446  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

A  half  hour  afterwards,  Zach  was  disturbed  at 
his  work  by  hearing  Mr.  Rush  excitedly  calling  for 
help.  Hurrying  downstairs,  he  found  that  gentle- 
man at  the  door  sending  off  a  servant  in  great  haste 
for  a  doctor. 

Before  the  doctor  came,  Falconer  had  in  a  meas- 
ure recovered.  That  is,  he  stood  up,  moved  his 
arms,  and  spoke.  He  even  affected  to  laugh,  and 
explained  that  it  was  only  one  of  his  little  confused 
feelings.  Whereupon,  having  swallowed  some 
brandy  and  water,  he  walked  across  the  room,  pro- 
nounced himself  quite  well,  and  announced  his  pur- 
pose of  going  home.  Anxious  Mr.  Rush  said  he 
must  not  go  alone,  and  looked  significantly  at  Zach. 

Astonished  to  see  Falconer  in  London,  when  he 
thought  him  in  Paris,  astonished  at  finding  him 
closeted  with  Mr.  Rush,  and  still  more  astonished 
at  his  sudden  and  unaccountable  illness,  Zach  stood 
stupidly  and  did  not  take  the  hint. 

Thereupon,  Mr.  Rush  whispered  a  word  in  his  ear, 
when,  with  great  alacrity,  he  proffered  his  services 
and  helped  the  sick  man  down  to  his  carriage. 

Arrived  in  Grosvenor  Square,  Falconer  cautioned 
his  companion  to  say  nothing  to  Sylvia  of  his  illness. 

Sylvia!  Was  he  then  to  see  her?  The  sudden- 
ness and  matter-of-course  way  in  which  the  sugges- 
tion was  made  put  him  in  a  flutter.  He  forgot 
where  he  was,  and  what  he  was  doing,  and  on  alight- 
ing pushed  and  shoved  the  sick  man  about  until 
that  impatient  person  sharply  requested  to  be  let 
alone. 

Nevertheless,  far  from  showing  any  disposition  to 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  447 

part  with  his  escort,  the  invalid  ushered  him  into 
the  house,  led  the  way  to  the  library,  and  proceeded 
to  enter  upon  a  conversation  the  manner  and  sub- 
stance of  which  completed  the  young  man's  bewil- 
derment. 

"You  are,  then,  in  government  service,  Mr. 
Phips?" 

"Yes." 

"May  I  ask  how  old  you  are?" 

"Twenty-three." 

"  Is  it  your  intention  to  devote  yourself  to  a  diplo- 
matic career?" 

"It  is." 

"Humph!  It  is  an  honorable  profession,  but," 
with  a  keen  look  at  his  visitor,  "slow  and  toilful." 

Busied  with  speculations  as  to  the  purport  of  this 
personal  examination,  Zach  neglected  to  answer. 

"Meantime,  one  must  live,"  pursued  Falconer, 
"and  how  is  a  young  man  to  support  himself,  much 
less  a  family,  on  the  beggarly  stipend  allowed  by 
your  country  to  its  foreign  representatives?  " 

Unwilling  to  provoke  discussion,  Zach  received 
this  criticism  upon  his  government  in  dignified 
silence,  the  critic,  meantime,  studying  his  averted 
face  and  recalling,  perhaps,  remembrances  of  the 
passionate  boy  at  Basswood  and  the  belligerent  mid- 
shipman of  later  years. 

The  prolonged  silence  recalled  Zach  to  the  situ- 
ation. Disappointed  in  a  certain  trembling  hope 
with  which  he  had  entered  the  house,  and  altogether 
puzzled  by  the  whole  experience,  he  rose  to  go  with 
a  perfunctory  offer  of  further  service. 


448  ZACHAEY  PHIP8. 

Falconer  acknowledged  it  in  a  tone  approaching 
cordiality. 

"I  am  indebted  to  you  for  a  very  timely  assist- 
ance. I  am  better,  —  in  fact  quite  well,  now,  as 
you  see.  It  was  nothing  to  speak  of ;  a  passing  ill 
turn  brought  on  by  bothering  too  much  of  late  over 
business.  I  must  beg  you  again  to  say  nothing  of 
it  to  my  daughter.  Which  reminds  me,  Mr.  Phips, 
why  cannot  you  come  and  dine  with  us?  Let  us 
see;  say  this  day  week?" 

Incoherently  mumbling  his  thanks,  Zach  accepted 
the  invitation  with  a  look  which  showed  a  doubt  as 
to  whether  his  host  was  in  his  right  mind,  and  went 
home  in  a  whirl  of  bewilderment.  Zach  was  un- 
questionably right  in  regarding  the  dinner  as  a  pro- 
foundly significant  event.  Grown  wise  in  London 
manners,  moreover,  he  went  in  irreproachable  trim. 
He  deported  himself  with  dignity.  He  talked  with 
ease  and  sense.  The  host  followed  his  every  word 
and  movement  with  vigilant  criticism.  Left  alone 
over  their  wine,  interrupting  some  conventional 
commonplaces  about  English  politics,  he  quietly 
remarked,  to  the  measureless  astonishment  of  his 
guest,  — 

"Mr.  Phips,  I  have  been  thinking  I  cannot  do 
better  than  consult  you  upon  a  business  matter,  —  I 
may  say,  several  matters,  which  have  been  trou- 
bling me  of  late." 

Forgetful  of  his  diplomatic  training,  Zach  showed 
in  his  face  an  ingenuous  appreciation  of  this  unex- 
pected tribute. 

"You  have  been  in  New  Orleans,"  continued  Fal- 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  449 

coner,  in  the  tone  of  one  talking  to  himself.  "You 
know  the  city ;  you  know  my  plantation ;  the  state 
it  was  in  before  the  war ;  the  yield  of  sugar ;  the 
number  of  slaves,  and  all.  You  have  also  been  in 
Nassau.  You  have  seen  my  property  there.  You 
have  been  in  Washington.  You  know  abor.t  Mon- 
sieur's work  there.  In  short,  —  't  is  odd  I  never 
thought  of  it  before, — you  know  more  than  any 
other  person  now  living  about  my  interests  in  the 
States  and  in  the  Bahamas." 

Zach  stared.  The  thought  was  evidently  as  new 
to  him  as  to  his  host. 

"Now,  sir,  I  may  say  to  you  in  confidence  that 
of  late  Everything  has  gone  wrong  with  me.  If 
some  help  cannot  speedily  be  found,  I  am  in  a  fair 
way  to  lose  the  bulk  of  my  possessions  in  the  New 
World,  which  I  will  frankly  confess  would  not  only 
seriously  cripple  me,  but  "  —  nodding  towards  the 
drawing-room —  "impair  the  prospects  of  others." 

It  mattered  nothing  that  Zach's  comment  upon 
this  surprising  overture  was  unintelligible,  for  his 
host  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his  recital  to  heed 
him. 

"My  lawyers  here  say  it  is  imperative  that  some 
competent  person  should  go  over  at  once  and  take 
my  affairs  in  hand,  for  I  have  late  news  that  my 
agent  in  Nassau  has  turned  out  a  rascal." 

Zach  nodded  significantly. 

"Yes,  yes;  there  is  a  prejudice  against  him,  I 
know ;  but  he  was  in  many  ways  a  valuable  man  for 
me.  I  never  found  him  out,  in  short,  —  but  't  is 
of  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk.  My  New  Orleans 


450  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

affairs  are  also  in  a  critical  condition.  Since  my 
poor  old  faithful  friend  and  lawyer  there  died"  — 

"Monsieur?" 

"You  knew  him?" 

"He  is  dead?" 

"Yes,  of  a  fever  caught  in  that  pestiferous  town." 

The  listener's  face  showed  such  deep  concern  as 
to  arrest  the  elder's  attention. 

"He  was  then  a  friend  of  yours?" 

"One  of  the  best.  I  owe  him  everything  I  have 
in  the  way  of  education.  He  lent  me  books,  he 
directed  my  studies.  He  took  thought  and  trouble 
in  a  thankless  task.  I  had  hoped  we  might  both 
live  until  I  could  in  some  way  "  — 

Zach  stopped :  his  host's  eyes  had  grown  dim  and 
wandering. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said  quickly,  "for  troubling 
you  with  these  personal  matters.  You  wanted  to 
consult  me  "  — 

Falconer  rallied  by  a  visible  effort,  and  got  upon 
his  feet. 

"Yes,  yes;  but  not  to  -  niglit,  —  another  time. 
Some  morning,  when," —  he  hesitated  as  if  search- 
ing his  mind  for  a  fit  expression,  "when  I  am  rested. 
I  will  send  you  word,  and  if  you  are  willing  to  give 
the  time,  I  —  I" —  He  stopped  as  if  he  had  lost 
the  thread  of  thought,  and  motioned  vaguely  towards 
the  drawing-room. 

As  soon  as  they  appeared  upon  the  threshold, 
Sylvia  came  briskly  forward,  took  possession  of  her 
father,  and  without  too  evidently  appearing  to  aid, 
escorted  him  to  an  easy -chair.  Then,  bringing  forth 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  451 

the  evening  paper,  said  apologetically  aside  to 
Zach, — 

"This  is  routine:  you  will  excuse  us  if  we  do  not 
make  a  stranger  of  you." 

But  Falconer,  noting  her  purpose,  waved  his  hand, 
saying,  — 

"No,  no;  dispense  with  that  to-night." 

But  Sylvia,  with  an  effective  assumption  of  her 
old  childish  tyranny,  persisted.  "Mr.  Phips  wants 
to  hear  the  news." 

With  a  feeble  smile,  as  if  understanding  the  arti- 
fice, the  sick  man  yielded. 

"Only  the  news,  — nothing  but  the  news,  papa; 
and  never  one  of  their  comments." 

Whereupon,  spreading  forth  the  "Evening 
Times "  upon  her  knee,  she  rapidly  skimmed  its 
contents. 

"Home  Life  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  in  Exile, 
—  Description  of  St.  Helena." 

"Humph!  Got  you  there,  Bony,  safe  enough, 
now,"  chuckled  Falconer,  in  an  undertone. 

"Doings  of  the  Austrian  Court." 

"Who  cares  about  their  doings! — goon  —  go 
on  to  something  interesting." 

"Plot  of  the  Russians  to  seize  Constantinople." 

"Aha,  —  at  it  again ;  —  what 's  Castlereagh  think- 
ing of?  Those  filthy  Cossacks  are  bound  to^have 
that  plum,  and  they  '11  get  it,  some  time,  —  they  '11 
get  it!" 

"Arrival  of  an  Indian  Princess  from  Florida, — 
comes  to  seek  Redress  for  her  Losses  in  the  Semi- 
nole  War." 


452  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"  Ay,  and  she  '11  get  it,  too,  never  a  doubt  of  it ! 
while  a  poor  white  man  like  me,  who  lost  ten  times 
as  much,  may  whistle  for  his  pains." 

"Insurrection  of  the  Blacks  in  the  West  In- 
dies"— 

"  There,  there,  my  dear,  no  more ;  I  'm  tired  of 
that.  There  's  nothing  of  interest  —  go  give  us 
some  music." 

Every  day  for  a  week  Zach  expected  the  promised 
summons  to  Grosvenor  Square.  Meantime,  he  was 
filled  with  surprise  and  curiosity  over  the  sudden 
change  of  attitude  with  regard  to  himself.  It  was 
easy  to  date  it  from  the  day  of  Falconer's  visit  to 
Mr.  Rush.  But  what  had  impelled  him  to  visit  Mr. 
Rush?  What  had  Mr.  Rush  said  to  him?  Had 
he  been  led  purely  by  self-interest  and  the  stress  of 
his  American  affairs?  These  and  a  score  of  other 
puzzling  questions  tormented  him. 

He  was  pondering  all  these  riddles,  while  taking 
an  airing  in  the  park  one  day,  when  he  saw  a  fa- 
miliar carriage  before  him.  With  an  indefinable 
little  thrill  he  spurred  forward  to  overtake  it. 

Sylvia  was  alone;  she  had  left  her  father  with 
Mason ;  he  was  much  better. 

The  two  looked  at  each  other  significantly. 
Without  any  interchange  of  confidence  upon  the 
subject,  both  felt  that  they  were  meeting  for  the  first 
time  under  new  and  happier  auspices. 

The  talk  was  light  and  frivolous.  Sylvia  acted 
like  one  intoxicated;  her  eyes  shone,  her  cheeks 
glowed.  She  laughed  at  nothing.  Zach  caught  the 
contagion  and  outdid  her  in  folly. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  453 

Thus  laughing  and  chattering,  the  fond,  silly  pair 
trotted  down  the  mall,  the  happiest  fools  alive,  when 
suddenly,  checking  a  peal  of  idle  laughter,  Sylvia 
said,  — 

"What  an  odd-looking  person!  Who  can  she 
be?  Look,  Zach!" 

With  a  smile  on  his  lips,  Zach. turned,  and  dis- 
covered a  young  woman,  dressed  in  bizarre  finery, 
leaning  negligently  against  the  trunk  of  a  huge  lin- 
den-tree and  regarding  him  and  his  companion  with 
keenest  interest.  Meeting  his  eye,  she  instantly 
slunk  behind  the  tree  and  disappeared  in  the  shrub- 
bery. 

"Impossible! "  he  cried,  gazing  after  her  with  a 
stupefied  look. 

"You  know  her,  then?  " 

"No-o,  yes." 

"She  is  a  foreigner." 

"  She  came  from  America,  and  her  name  is  Ma- 
lee." 

"The  Indian  Princess!" 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

ZACH'S  patience  was  at  last  rewarded:  one  morn- 
ing came  the  long-expected  message  that  Falconer 
wanted  to  see  him. 

The  experiment,  as  it  seemed,  proved  satisfactory, 
for  the  first  conference  was  followed  by  many  oth- 
ers. Whether  impressed  by  a  certain  air  of  reserve 
power  in  his  young  adviser,  or  by  minor  qualifica- 
tions of  clearness  of  head  and  steadiness  of  purpose, 
the  stress  of  Falconer's  anxiety  was  appreciably 
relieved,  and  the  result  was  a  measurable  improve- 
ment in  his  health. 

A  natural  consequence  followed.  Insensibly, 
Zach  became'  very  much  at  home  in  Grosvenor 
Square.  His  business  visits  always  ended  in  the 
drawing-room,  where  Falconer  noted  with  seeming 
content  the  growing  intimacy  of  his  guest  and 
daughter. 

A  light  gradually  dawned  upon  even  Mrs.  Ma- 
son's opaque  understanding,  for  she  intermitted  by 
degrees  her  dragon  vigilance,  and  upon  one  pretext 
or  another  joined  Falconer  in  the  library. 

Upon  one  of  these  occasions  of  a  long  evening 
spent  without  surveillance  in  Sylvia's  company,  Zach 
lingered  over  his  leave-taking. 

He  held  longer  than  needful  the  little  hand  given 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  455 

him  with  the  farewell  greeting,  fumbling  the  while 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"What  have  you  there? "  asked  the  owner  of  the 
little  hand  unsuspectingly. 

"Something  for  you,"  with  a  twitching  of  the  cor- 
ners of  the  mouth. 

"What  can  it  be?  I  am  consumed  with  curi- 
osity." 

"You  shall  see  presently,"  attempting  to  adjust 
something  upon  her  hand. 

"A  ring! — for  me?  You  saucy  man!"  snatch- 
ing away  her  hand. 

"You  will  not  have  it?  " 

"Certainly  not.  Why  should  I  have  a  ring?" 
with  a  tell-tale  flush. 

"Because  it  is  time." 

"Time?  "  with  a  clumsy  attempt  at  innocence. 

"Yes,  long  ago.     Give  me  your-hand!  " 

"Really,  sir!  upon  my  honor!  " 

"Your  hand,  I  say,"  peremptorily. 

"  Not  I !  —  a  ring  ?    Why  that  means  "  — 

"Yes." 

"But  we  are  not." 

"Not!" 

"Certainly  not." 

"And  you  refuse?"  glooming  up. 

"How  can  I  refuse,  when  I  have  never  been 
asked?" 

"And  you  never  will  be  asked." 

As  the  defiant  little  person  was  gathering  herself 
for  a  reply,  she  was  caught  up  in  a  smothering  em- 
brace. 


456  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

"You  bold,  rude  man!'  Put  me  down  this  min- 
ute !  I  never  will " 

"Won't  you  —  won't  you,  indeed?  —  you  can't 
help  yourself!  It  makes  no  difference  whether 
you  will  or  not"  —another  rudeness.  "Give  me 
that  hand,  I  say!  Your  consent  is  taken  for 
granted." 

"I  will  call  papa." 

"Do,  and  Mrs.  Mason,  and  the  servants!  Let  us 
have  the  whole  household,  and  the  neighbors  to  boot, 
and  I  will  publish  to  the  world  what  a  rebellious 
little  tease  "  — 

"  Sh  —  somebody  is  coming !  " 

"  Will  you  give  me  the  hand?  " 

"There!" 

The  ring  was  fitted  on  at  last,  not  without  other 
and  repeated  rudenesses. 

"But  what  need  had  I  of  another  ring?" 

"Another?" 

"Certainly.     I  have  one  already." 

"Whose?"  with  an  Othello  look. 

"See!  "  extending  her  hand. 

"A  stone  set  in  brilliants!"  with  a  deepening 
Moorish  expression. 

"Which  a  rude,  passionate,  ill-bred  person  once 
threw  out  of  the  window  "  — 

"The  pink  pearl!" 

The  incident  closed  with  a  demonstration  more 
significant  than  words. 

Next  day  Sylvia  told  her  father  the  news'  She 
beat  about  the  bush  a  long  time,  and  led  up  to  the 
subject  with  infinite  tact,  to  make  the  shock  as 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  457 

gentle  as  possible.  Glancing  up  by  chance,  when 
after  much  hemming  and  hawing  she  came  at  last 
to  the  announcement,  she  found  him  regarding  her 
with  a  look  of  quiet  amusement. 

Directly,  she  burst  into  tears,  and  when  her  fa- 
ther would  have  consoled  her,  lapsed  into  a  fit  of 
hysterical  laughter. 

When  the  news  was  given  to  the  public,  it  was 
made  the  occasion  for  a  round  of  congratulations 
and  small  festivities,  in  the  course  of  which  Zach 
was  duly  presented  to  the  large  circle  of  Sylvia's 
friends  and  acquaintances.  Certain  evidences  that 
he  had  sustained  this  ordeal  with  credit  filled  the 
measure  of  Zach's  content.  It  would  be  useless  and 
disingenuous  to  deny  that  one  of  the  lifelong  aims 
of  his  ambition  had  herein  found  fulfillment. 

He  was  now,  as  a  matter  of  course,  included  in 
all  the  family  invitations,  and  the  affianced  pair,  as 
it  chanced,  made  their  first  public  appearance  after 
the  betrothal  at  a  rout  given  by  the  Earl  of  West- 
moreland, one  of  their  neighbors  in  the  Square. 

A  great  throng  of  the  foremost  persons  in  all 
London  filled  the  rooms.  The  uniforms,  orders, 
and  insignia  worn  by  the  men,  impressive  as  they 
were,  paled  before  the  bravery  of  the  women,  whose 
widespreading  hoops,  towering  headdresses  glitter- 
ing with  jewels  and  topped  with  ostrich  plumes  all 
nodding,  waving,  and  catching  the  light  from  a 
myriad  of  wax  candles,  combined  to  form  a  scene  of 
unimaginable  splendor. 

Obliged  for  appearances'  sake  to  relinquish 
Sylvia  during  the  dance,  Zach  stood  looking  about, 


458  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

at  a  loss  what  to  do,  when  his  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  commotion  in  the  corner  of  the  room, 
where  a  crowd  had  gathered  about  some  unseen 
object  of  interest. 

Pushing  his  way  to  the  front,  he  stood  amazed : 
there,  surrounded  by  the  rank  and  fashion  of  Lon- 
don, stood  Malee ! 

No  canon  of  good  breeding  sufficed  to  keep  those 
so-called  gentlefolks  from  hemming  in  and  staring 
at  the  solitary  stranger.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
must  be  confessed,  Malee  sustained  the  ordeal  with 
admirable  composure.  Neither  abashed  nor  resent- 
ful, she  returned  the  universal  stare  of  curiosity 
with  a  look  of  serene  indifference. 

Romantic  stories  concerning  her  birth,  her  adven- 
tures, and  her  sufferings  had  been  for  some  days 
flying  about  in  society,  which,  coupled  with  her 
striking  personal  characteristics,  combined  to  render 
her  an  object  of  irrepressible  interest. 

With  a  look  of  undisguised  admiration,  Zach  re- 
garded his  old  friend.  Her  beauty  suffered  not  a 
whit  in  this  perilous  contrast  with  the  belles  of  the 
drawing-room.  Happily,  some  cunning  tire-woman 
had  presided  at  her  toilet,  and  given  due  emphasis 
to  all  her  points.  A  dress  of  yellow  satin  fell  in 
shining  folds  about  her  hoopless  figure,  an  Indian 
crepe  shawl  of  the  same  color  was  twisted  negli- 
gently about  her  shoulders,  strings  of  amber  encir- 
cled her  throat,  while  a  broad  gold  band  about  her 
head  held  in  place  the  heavy  braids  of  her  coarse 
black  hair. 

Stepping   forward   at   once,   Zach   held   out   his 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  459 

hand.  Directly,  as  if  by  magic,  a  change  took  place 
in  the  cold,  half  defiant  bearing  of  the  Indian  girl. 
Her  cheek  flushed,  her  eye  brightened,  her  figure 
relaxed.  She  took,  with  a  shamefaced  look,  the 
extended  hand,  and  in  answer  to  Zach's  eager  ques- 
tions as  to  her  welfare,  dropped  her  eyes  and  bash- 
fully toyed  with  the  folds  of  her  gown. 

"How  came  you  here,  Malee?" 

"By  the  ship  over  the  great  water." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but,"  he  proceeded,  with  frontier 
bluntness,  "what  errand  brought  you  so  far  from 
home?" 

A  deeper  flush,  for  a  minute,  swept  over  the  girl's 
face;  there  was  an  evident  struggle,  too,  against 
the  prevaricating  instinct  of  her  race,  but  her  an- 
swer, when  it  came,  was  honest  and  simple. 

"Malee,  too,  have  secrets." 

Her  cross-examiner  looked  rebuked. 

"I  thought  —  I  hoped,"  he  stammered,  "your 
father's  friends  here  had  heard  of  your  troubles  and 
had  sent  for  you." 

Malee  shook  her  head. 

"And  have  they  done  nothing  for  you?  " 

"They  do  good  deal.  They  give  me  this,"  pick- 
ing up  her  gown.  "They  give  me  much  to  eat  and 
drink.  They  give  me  soft  words  and  good  counsel. 
They  good  friends." 

"Have  you  told  your  story?  Have  you  told  of 
your  father's  cruel  death  at  the  hands  of  those 
butch—  ", 

A  sudden  remembrance  of  his  official  position 
doubtless  caused  him  to  leave  the  sentence  unfin- 
ished. 


460  ZACIIARY  PHIPS. 

"I  mean,"  he  went  on  after  a  little,  "if  you  make 
known  to  these  good  friends  the  trials  and  losses 
you  suffered  from  the  war,  they  may  do  something 
to  make  it  good  to  you." 

Malee  did  not  answer,  and  from  her  face  it  was 
impossible  to  say  how  she  received  the  suggestion. 

"You  will  be  here  how  long?  —  good  many  days? 
good  many  weeks?" 

His  question  being  quietly  ignored,  the  ques- 
tioner hastened  to  explain. 

"Because  I,  too,  have  friends  here.  I  may  help 
you.  I  will  try." 

Again  the  girl's  face  softened  in  a  marked  man- 
ner, and  she  murmured,  — 

"I  thank  you." 

"Where  are  your  lodgings?" 

Malee  looked  blank. 

"Where  do  you  eat  and  sleep?  " 

"  I  not  know ;  they  bring  me  here,  they  take  me 
away." 

Zach  looked  perplexed.  Before  he  could  continue 
his  inquiries  a  voice  near  at  hand  cried,  — 

"Ah,  runaway,  here  you  are,  at  last!  " 

He  turned,  and  saw  Sylvia  on  the  arm  of  her 
cousin,  a  young  lieutenant  in  the  guards. 

"  Yes ;  I  came  across  the  room  to  speak  to  my  old 
friend  "- 

"You  mean  the  Indian  princess?"  broke  in  Syl- 
via breathlessly.  "  Oh,  pray  introduce  us !  Every- 
body is  dying  to  know  her.  Does  she  speak  Eng- 
lish?" 

"Sh-h!  "  hissed  Zach  softly.     "She  has  the  ears 


ZACIIAEY  PHIPS.  461 

of  a  lynx.  She  does  speak  English,  and  I  will  in- 
troduce you  at  once." 

The  lieutenant,  being  engaged  for  the  next  dance, 
excused  himself  and  hurried  away.  Whereupon, 
Zach,  turning  with  a  little  air  of  constraint,  said,  — 

"Malee,  this  is  another  good  friend  of  mine,  Miss 
Sylvia  Falconer, — a  friend,"  he  added,  with  a 
marked  emphasis,  "whom  I  have  known  a  great 
many  years;  longer,  even,  than  I  have  known  you." 

A  contraction  as  from  a  freezing  draught  came 
over  the  Indian's  whole  person;  her  facial  lines 
moved  ominously  downward,  and  she  received  with 
an  unresponsive  air  Sylvia's  cordial  greeting,  — 

"I  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  you,  Malee.  I  have 
had  a  great  desire  to  see  you.  Mr.  Phips  has  told 
me  of  the  brave  and  noble  service  you  rendered  him. 
He  will  never  forget.  I  am  glad  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  thank  you,  both  for  his  sake  and  for  my 
own." 

Sylvia  spoke  with  enthusiasm,  holding,  as  she 
talked,  the  limp  hand  of  the  Indian  girl,  who  suf- 
fered without  returning  the  pressure. 

"You  have  come  a  long  way  to  visit  England?  " 

Malee  nodded. 

"I  suppose  it  seems  strange  to  you;  it  did  to  me 
when  I  first  came.  But  you  will  like  the  people 
better  when  you  come  to  know  them.  The  country, 
too,  when  you  get  away  from  this  noisy,  smoky 
town,  is  delightful.  There  are  no  grand,  wild  for- 
ests, to  be  sure,  such  as  you  have  in  Florida,  but 
there  are  beautiful  meadows  and  moors  and  hills 
and  parks." 


462  ZAVHARY  PHIPS. 

Unobservant,  as  it  seemed,  of  the  cold,  unan- 
swering  mood  of  the  stranger,  Sylvia  prattled  on, — 

"I  hope  you  will  come  to  see  me  before  yon  go 
away.  I  live  close  by  in  the  Square,  the  very  next 
door  to  Lord  Westmoreland.  Perhaps  Zach  —  per- 
haps Mr.  Phips  will  come,  too,  and  so  you  may 
have  an  opportunity  to  talk  over  your  old  life  in  the 
forest." 

Getting  restive  at  this  prolonged  interview,  Zach 
made  a  pretext  for  dragging  Sylvia  away,  turning 
back  for  a  moment  to  whisper,  — 

"I  saw  you  the  other  day  in  the  park,  Malee. 
Come  there  again  to-morrow,  I  want  to  have  a  word 
with  you! " 

Hearing  without  assenting,  Malee  followed  with 
a  curious,  intent  look  the  happy  pair  as  they  moved 
away. 

Later  in  the  evening  Zach  caught  another  glimpse 
of  his  old  friend  leaning  against  one  of  the  pillars 
supporting  the  arched  entrance  to  the  ball-room. 
He  paused  to  study  anew  the  supple  grace  of  her 
person  as,  unconscious  of  observation,  she  stood 
watching  the  dancers. 

From  wandering  listlessly  over  the  room,  her 
gaze  presently  became  fixed.  It  acquired  a  marked 
intensity,  while  her  figure,  half -hidden  by  the  col- 
umn, had  a  curious  suggestion  of  a  crouching  pan- 
ther, —  silent,  tireless,  alert. 

Following  the  direction  of  her  eyes,  Zach's  look 
of  idle  curiosity  gave  place  to  one  of  alarm. 

Hurrying  across  the  room,  he  took  advantage  of 
the  first  opportunity  and  persuaded  Sylvia  to  go 
home. 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  463 

Having  said  good-night  at  her  door,  he  turned 
back  with  an  afterthought. 

"  Dearest,  did  I  hear  you  inviting  Malee  to  visit 
you?" 

"Yes." 

"I  beg  you  will  not  repeat  the  invitation." 

"Why?" 

"And  if  she  comes,  make  some  excuse  for  not 
seeing  her." 

"I  cannot  do  that,  dear,  it  would  be  both  un- 
friendly and  uncivil." 

"Nevertheless,  I  beg  you  to  do  it." 

"  How  very  odd  of  you  —  after  saving  your  life 
and  being  such  a  friend  to  you!  What  can  you 
mean?  She  would  be  grossly  affronted." 

"I  know  —  I  know.  But  'tis  better  to  run  the 
risk  of  that  than  "  — 

"Than?  "  with  wondering  eyes. 

"Than" — hesitating — "than  be  annoyed  with 
her  afterwards." 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

NEXT  day  Zach  took  care  to  be  in  the  park  at  his 
usual  hour  for  an  outing.  As  he  had  named  no 
particular  place  for  meeting,  he  was  obliged  to  ex- 
plore the  whole  garden  before  satisfying  himself  that 
Malee  was  not  there. 

Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  he  threw  him- 
self down  with  an  air  of  irritation,  but  presently 
recovered  his  equanimity  upon  reflecting  that  Malee 
had  not  promised  to  come,  and  that,  moreover,  in 
her  inexperience  of  the  city,  she  might  easily  have 
gone  astray.  After  waiting,  therefore,  a  reasonable 
time  for  her,  he  slowly  strolled  back  to  the  house. 

Several  days  afterwards  Mr.  Rush  sent  him  to 
show  the  town  to  a  newly -arrived  compatriot.  This 
was  one  of  the  routine  duties  of  the  private  secre- 
tary, in  which  Zach  had  easily  become  proficient. 

Among  the  not-to-be-neglected  lions  every  Amer- 
ican must  see  was  Sir  Benjamin  West. 

At  the  studio  of  the  venerable  artist,  accordingly, 
Zach  'duly  brought  up  towards  the  close  of  a  day's 
sight-seeing. 

As  usual,  Sir  Benjamin  received  the  stranger  with 
cordiality,  and  Zach,  leaving  the  two  to  talk,  wan- 
dered listlessly  about  the  room. 

A  loud  exclamation  was  presently  heard. 


ZACHAKY  PHIPS.  465 

Sir  Benjamin  turned,  and  beheld  the  secretary 
staring  open-mouthed  at  an  unfinished  painting. 

"Who  is  this?" 

"So,"  answered  the  artist,  gratified  by  this  trib- 
ute to  his  latest  effort,  "you  like  that,  then?  You 
are  right.  I  flatter  myself  't  is  a  fair  bit  of  work, 
and  when  I  get  it  done,  if  I  ever  do  "  — 

"But  who" - 

"The  model?  Why,  sir,  't  is  no  other  than  our 
fair  countrywoman,  the  Indian  princess,  the  town  is 
so  mad  about." 

"Malee?" 

"Some  outlandish  name  of  that  sort." 

"But  how  came  she  —  came  you" 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,  somebody  brought  her  here,  and 
naturally  I  could  n't  resist  the  temptation.  See 
what  a  figure!  Note  the  pose  of  the  neck!  I 
plume  myself  upon  that." 

"But  where  is  she?" 

"Eh?" 

"Where  does  she  live?" 

"Live?  Dear  me!  I  haven't  the  least  notion, 
—  but  remark  how  exactly  I  have  the  copper  tint  of 
her  skin! " 

"Is  it  known  what  brings  her  over  here? " 

"Ah,  that,  now,  I  could  n't  tell  you.  'T  is  a  long 
story,  I  believe.  She  lost  everything  in  some  war: 
her  father  was  killed,  or  something  of  that  sort. 
They  claim  to  have  been  allies  of  the  British,  who 
left  them  to  their  fate;  so  now  the  Whig  leaders 
have  taken  this  one  up,  and  are  making  all  this 
pother  to  harass  the  government." 


466  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

"But  my  Lord  Westmoreland  had  her  the  other 
night  at  his  rout." 

"Of  course,  a  sop  thrown  to  the  opposition 
Cerberus,  not  to  speak  of  the  fact  that  Lady  West- 
moreland would  have  had  her  in  any  case  as  the 
reigning  sensation  in  London.  See  the  modeling 
of  that  left  arm.  Stand  here !  This  is  the  better 
light." 

"But  is  she  coming  back?  " 

"To  me,  you  mean?  I  only  wish  she  might.  I 
need  another  sitting.  One  more  would  do.  But 
she  suits  herself,  that  one;  she  is  as  capricious  as 
the  wind,  and  has  no  more  respect  for  art  than 
a  raccoon.  You  would  n't  believe,  now,  my  dear 
Phips,  but  she  has  never  condescended  to  cast  an 
eye  upon  that  sketch  since  't  was  begun." 

"If  she  does  come  again  "  — 

*'Ah,  but  she  won't,  she  won't!  Not  a  bit  of  it. 
I  know  her  well.  She  thinks  it  slow  business,  I 
assure  you ;  and  I  had  to  use  all  my  wiles  to  keep 
her,  the  last  time." 

"You  may  see  her,  however,  elsewhere." 

"Possibly.  This  bit  here,  now,  in  the  back- 
ground, makes  you  almost  smell  the  forest,  eh?" 

"Or  it  may  come  to  your  ears  where  she  is  stay- 
ing?" 

"I  dare  say." 

"If  so,  I  beg  you  to  send  me  word  at  once." 

"That  I  will,  —trust  me,  —  if  I  don't  forget  it." 

"I  shall  be  greatly  obliged." 

"Spare  your  thanks  till  they  are  earned,  and 
don't  count  upon  me!  My  memory  is  a  wreck,  and 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  467 

my  wits  go  wool-gathering  these  days.  Mark  you 
that  cheek  -  bone,  boy ;  it  has  the  true  aboriginal 
turn,  eh?  " 

"I  make  the  point  because  the  girl  has  been  a 
great  sufferer.  I  know  something  of  her  history, 
and  may  be  able  to  help  her.  You  say  the  Whig 
leaders  have  taken  up  her  cause?  " 

"Ay,  and  had  her  up  before  a  committee  of  the 
House  the  other  day,  to  hear  her  tell  of  the  murder- 
ous doings  of  that  wild,  roaring  Jibbenainosay  of 
ours  yonder  in  the  Floridas." 

With  a  truly  diplomatic  presence  of  mind,  Zach 
looked  as  blank  as  the  side  of  a  house. 

"Right,  lad,  right!"  chuckled  the  shrewd  old 
man.  "You  know  nothing  of  all  that!  You  never 
heard  the  name  of  a  certain  Andrew  Jackson,  whom 
between  ourselves,  as  good  Americans,  I  think  equal 
parts  ignoramus  and  madman.  But  what  matters 
that,  so  long  as  the  dear  States  reap  the  advantage 
of  his  ill-doings,  eh?" 

"And  Malee  was  had  before  the  Commons,  you 
say?" 

"Tush,  not  so  loud!  'T  is  in  a  measure  a  state 
secret,  which  I  heard  last  night  at  a  banquet  at  my 
Lord  Castlereagh's." 

"And  she  testified?" 

"That  she  did,  with  a  gusto  which  has  thrown  the 
whole  cabinet  into  a  panic." 

Suppressing  a  blasphemous  exclamation,  Zach 
asked,  — 

"Is  it  known  what  she  said?" 

«Yes  —  no;  I  cannot   say;  only  't  is  said   her 


4C8  ZACIIARY  mips. 

eyes  flashed  fire,  and  she  flung  about  her  arms  in 
fine  tragic  style,  worthy  dear  Siddons  herself." 

A  deepening  cloud  settled  upon  the  listener's  face, 
and  he  cast  a  nervous  glance  towards  his  country- 
man, who  was  busy  with  the  pictures  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room. 

"But  the  dusky  princess  has  a  truly  royal  strain," 
went  on  Sir  Benjamin.  "'T  is  said  she  rejects 
with  disdain  the  money  the  Whigs  had  such  toil  in 
raising  for  her,  which  has  set  everybody  to  specu- 
lating what  can  have  brought  her  so  far  over  the 
sea." 

The  young  secretary  did  not  answer,  but  after 
several  minutes  of  silence,  he  made  some  excuse  to 
go,  leaving  his  companion  to  visit  with  Sir  Ben- 
jamin. 

He  went  away  with  a  look  of  preoccupation. 
There  was,  indeed,  no  lack  of  matter  to  engage  his 
attention.  In  the  existing  excitement  of  the  pub- 
lic over  the  Seminole  War,  Malee's  testimony  was 
in  the  highest  degree  calculated  to  revive  the  popu- 
lar wrath,  which  had  already  begun  to  subside.  In 
a  renewal  of  the  discussion,  his  own  name  might  be 
drawn  in,  and  his  position  and  future  imperiled. 
Far  from  being  insensible  to  these  ignoble  consid- 
erations, the  young  diplomat  showed  himself  very 
much  alive  to  them.  There  is  good  ground  for  be- 
lief, indeed,  that  he  dwelt  upon  this  aspect  of  the 
case  with  no  inconsiderable  dismay. 

Nor  were  his  fears  without  warrant.  The  wan- 
ing interest  in  the  subject  was  not  only  revived,  but 
the  public  anger  was  still  further  aroused  by  news 


ZACHARY  PIIIPS.  469 

that  the  American  Congress,  instead  of  censuring 
General  Jackson  for  his  lawless  doings,  had  scarcely 
stopped  short  of  applauding  them,  and  that  Mr. 
Adams,  the  Secretary  of  State,  had  stoutly  justified 
the  whole  proceeding. 

At  this  juncture,  unhappily  for  the  administra- 
tion, came  news  of  the  cession  of  the  Floridas  to  the 
United  States.  Thereupon  the  press  raised  a  pro- 
digious clamor,  and  there  was  a  consequent  depres- 
sion in  the  public  funds. 

It  was  well  for  Mr.  Rush  that  the  administration 
faction  had  plenty  of  backbone,  for  those  were 
anxious  days  at  the  American  embassy,  and  a  tag 
of  conversation  which  Zach  took  home  from  an  even- 
ing party  proved  a  genuine  crumb  of  comfort. 

Two  guests  were  discussing  the  probability  of 
war. 

"But  here  comes  the  duke.  Let 's  take  his  opin- 
ion!" 

"Tell  us,  your  Grace,"  to  a  little  old  man  with 
stooping  shoulders  who  was  passing,  "what  is  the 
prospect  of  a  war?" 

"With  whom?"  The  assumption  of  innocence 
was  vastly  effective. 

"With  these  obstreperous  States." 

"There  is  no  prospect,"  returned  the  old  man, 
with  cold  tranquillity,  "that  two  nations  with  so 
much  common  sense  as  the  English  and  Americans 
will  ever  go  to  war  upon  a  pretext  so  trivial." 

"Who  was  that?"  asked  Zach,  impressed  by  the 
power  in  the  speaker's  beaked  nose  and  cold  gray 
eyes. 


470  ZACHARY  PHIPS, 

"The  Duke  of  Wellington!  " 

Grave  matters  of  state  had  thus  monopolized  for 
many  weeks  the  young  secretary's  time  and  atten- 
tion, when  a  slight  incident  reminded  him  that  his 
life  had  other  interests. 

Going  home  at  a  late  hour  one  night,  from  some 
business  engagement,  he  saw  a  shawled  figure  slip 
stealthily  from  an  area  opposite  Mr.  Rush's  house, 
and  glide  away  among  the  shadows  of  the  ill-lighted 
street.  At  first  scarcely  heeding  the  circumstance, 
it  presently  flashed  upon  him  that  there  had  been 
something  familiar  in  the  form  or  carriage  of  the 
fugitive. 

Directly,  he  gave  chase.  Running  to  the  end  of 
the  street,  he  returned,  peering  into  every  area  or 
shadowy  embrasure,  calling  coaxingly, — 

"Malee,  Malee!" 

But  not  even  an  echo  broke  the  midnight  silence. 

For  a  coincidence,  next  day  on  going  to  Gros- 
venor  Square,  Sylvia  greeted  him  with  — 

"What  do  you  think?  I  've  seen  your  friend, 
what  's-her-name,  the  Indian  princess  again !  " 

"Where?  "  with  an  assumption  of  indifference. 

"Here,  in  our  own  square." 

"When?" 

"Yesterday,  — no,  — the  day  before.  I  was  sit- 
ting at  the  window  when  I  saw  a  strange,  foreign- 
looking  woman  with  a  shawl  over  her  head  saunter- 
ing aimlessly  about  among  the  shrubbery  in  the 
square.  I  scarcely  heeded  her,  and  of  course  at- 
tached no  significance  to  it." 

"Certainly  not." 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  471 

"Next  clay,  about  the  same  hour  in  the  morning, 
I  was  sitting  again  at  the  window,  looking  for  papa 
to  return  from  his  drive,  when  I  saw  a  flutter  of 
garments  behind  the  statue." 

"Pure  fancy!"  interjected  the  listener,  with  a 
nervous  laugh. 

"Listen!  That  afternoon  Mason  and  I  went  to 
drive.  Returning  about  dusk,  I  saw  the  woman 
going  before  us  down  the  square,  and  this  time, 
thinking  herself  unobserved,  she  slipped  into  that 
little  clump  of  haws  just  opposite  our  door.  I  drove 
past,  affecting  not  to  notice  her  presence,  but  went 
into  the  house,  and  through  the  closed  shutters  ex- 
amined her  with  my  opera  glass,  and  made  up  my 
mind  that  for  some  purpose  she  is  watching  this 
house ! " 

"Pooh,  pooh! "  exclaimed  Zach,  with  ill-assumed 
indifference.  "What  should  she  be  watching  your 
house  for?  " 

"That 's  the  mystery." 

"No  mystery  at  all.  'T  is  a  common  beggar  do- 
ing the  square  for  cold  victuals." 

"  Wait !  I  am  not  through !  As  soon  as  I  made 
up  my  mind  it  was  this  house  she  was  interested  in, 
I  sent  a  man  across  to  speak  to  her." 

"How  could  you  be  so  rash?" 

"When  she  saw  him  coming,  she  sprang  up  and 
hurried  away.  I  saw  her  face  distinctly,  and  recog- 
nized the  Indian.  She  is  not  one  to  be  forgotten. 
And  now,  if  she  comes  again  I  shall  go  and  speak 
to  her  myself." 

"God  forbid!" 


472  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

Sylvia  stared  in  amazement  at  the  explosive  in- 
terruption. 

"Whatever  you  do,  darling,  keep  out  of  her 
way!" 

"But  why?  Have  you  not  told  me  again  and 
again  that  she  is  one  of  your  most  faithful  friends, 
that  she  has  had  great  trials,  that  she  is  poor  and 
friendless?  " 

"Yes,  yes;  that  is  true;  but  all  the  same,  I  charge 
you  —  I  charge  you,"  he  repeated,  with  a  solemn 
and  almost  tragic  emphasis,  "on  no  account  go  near 
her!" 

"  Mercy  upon  us !  You  are  enough  to  scare  one ! 
Why  should  n't  I  go  near  her?  She  cannot  intend 
me  any  harm.  Besides,  she  may  feel  homesick  and 
wretched.  She  may  be  pining  for  a  kind  word, 
poor  creature ! " 

"  I  know ;  I  am  mindful  of  all  that,  and  I  feel  a 
profound  pity  for  her.  I  will  do  anything  I  can 
for  her  myself,  but  for  you  it  is  another  thing.  Re- 
member, she  is  a  savage,  a  creature  of  impulse  and 
passion,  and  not  to  be  judged  by  the  standards  of 
civilization." 

Reflection  upon  the  subject  seemed  only  to  in- 
crease Zach's  apprehensions,  for  when  he  came  to 
say  good-night,  he  begged  Sylvia  to  forbear  for  the 
present  her  walking  and  horseback  exercise,  and  on 
no  account  to  venture  out  of  the  house  unattended. 

But  a  spoiled  child  is  not  reformed  in  a  moment. 
Accustomed  all  her  life  to  follow  her  own  caprices, 
Sylvia  laughed  at  Zach's  fears  and  warnings,  and 
accordingly,  several  days  afterwards,  when  on  re- 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  473 

turning  from  a  drive  she  again  caught  sight  of 
Malee  loitering  in  the  square,  she  jumped  from  the 
carriage  and  boldly  accosted  her. 

"Is  that  you,  Malee?  I  have  been  hoping  to 
meet  you.  Will  you  come  home  with  me  ?  I  want 
to  see  you." 

Disconcerted  by  the  unexpected  meeting,  Malee 
made  no  answer. 

"Come,  "repeated  Sylvia,  graciously  putting  forth 
her  hand.  "I  want  to  be  friends  with  you.  I  am 
sure  you  have  not  many  friends  here." 

Neglecting  to  take  the  proffered  hand,  the  Indian 
yet,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  silently  followed 
her  new  acquaintance  home. 

Shown  into  the  drawing-room,  she  refused  to  be 
seated,  but  standing  bolt  upright  by  the  fireside 
gazed  with  unwinking  attention  at  her  hostess. 

"Pray  sit  down!  you  must  be  tired.  I  hope  you 
are  getting  to  feel  like  home  in  London.  It  must 
seem  a  dismal  place  after  the  beautiful  wilderness, 
of  course.  I  love  the  forest,  too,  but  I  shoidd  get 
lonely  there.  I  am  used  to  men  and  women,  and  I 
like  better  to  be  with  them." 

The  strange  guest  made  no  answer,  nor  showed 
by  any  sign  of  approval  or  dissent  how  she  received 
this  overture. 

With  admirable  ease  and  friendliness,  as  if  she 
had  the  most  sympathetic  auditor  in  the  world, 
Sylvia  went  on,  — 

"I  hope  you  are  succeeding  in  your  mission  to 
this  country.  Zach — I  mean  Mr.  Phips  —  has  told 
me  of  the  trials  and  hardships  you  have  suffered. 


474  ZACHABY  PHIPS.  + 

He  often  speaks  of  you,  and  wishes  he  might  help 

you." 

A  perceptible  narrowing  of  the  eyes  and  tighten- 
ing of  the  lips  took  place  in  the  listener's  face. 

"I  hope  you  have  found  other  friends  to  help 
and  care  for  you.  Mr.  Phips,  I  am  sure,  will  come 
and  see  you,  if  you  tell  me  where  you  may  be 
found." 

There  was  a  convulsive  movement,  as  of  swallow- 
ing, in  Malee's  throat,  but  she  did  not  speak. 

"Will  you  not  leave  word  where  he  may  find 
you?" 

"No." 

"He  would  take  great  pleasure  in  helping  you." 

"Speak  not  to  him,"  said  the  Indian  sternly. 

"Let  me,  then,  serve  you!  Tell  me  what  I  can 
do  for  you." 

"Nothing." 

As  she  spoke,  Malee  made  a  movement  towards 
the  door. 

"You  are  going?  Why  are  you  in  such  haste? 
Will  you  not  stay  and  eat  with  us?  " 

The  Indian  shook  her  head. 

"But  you  must  not  go  alone.  It  is  quite  dark. 
I  will  send  you  home  in  the  carriage." 

"I  have  no  home." 

"To  your  friends,  then,  wherever  you  are  stay- 
ing." 

"I  have  no  friends." 

"But  you  will  leave  some  word  for  Mr.  Phips?" 

"He  come  to  see  you  here?"  asked  the  Indian, 
suddenly,  with  glittering  eyes. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  475 

"Yes,  and  I  will  tell  him  that  I  have  seen  you." 

Again  the  movement  was  seen  in  the  girl's  throat. 
She  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  then  hoarsely 
said,  — 

"Tell  him  nothing." 

The  door  opened  and  shut,  and  she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

ZACH  was  expected  to  dinner  that  evening  in 
Grosvenor  Square,  and  as  he  approached  the  house 
saw  a  shawled  figure  issue  from  the  door  and  pause 
a  moment  upon  the  step,  as  if  in  doubt  which  way 
to  turn.  It  looked  like  a  woman,  but  there  was  not 
light  enough  to  be  certain.  As  he  drew  nearer,  the 
figure  started,  and  fled  away  down  the  street. 

He  stopped  short.  The  truth  flashed  upon  him. 
He  tried  to  rush  forward,  but  could  not.  His  knees 
grew  limp,  and  he  was  fain  to  clutch  the  nearest 
railing. 

A  servant  came  out  to  light  the  lantern  above  the 
Falconers'  door.  The  man's  manner,  so  quiet  and 
perfunctory,  reassured  him.  There  was,  then,  no 
occasion  for  alarm. 

His  fears  put  to  rest,  he  yielded  to  an  irrepres- 
sible inclination  to  follow  the  fugitive.  Hurrying 
to  the  corner  of  the  street,  he  saw  afar  off  the  draped 
figure  melting  into  indistinctness  among  the  gather- 
ing shadows. 

Resolved  that  she  should  not  again  escape  him,  he 
dashed  after  at  full  speed.  With  the  fleetness  of 
her  race,  however,  she  steadily  maintained  her  lead, 
and  while  the  echoing  sound  of  his  boots  warned 
her  of  his  pursuit,  her  moccasined  feet  fell  like 
snowflakes  on  the  pavement. 


ZACHARY  2>I1IPS.  477 

Following  on  at  unslackeued  pace,  Zach  soon 
found  himself  in  a  poorer  quarter  of  the  town.  The 
pavements  became  rough  and  irregular,  the  street- 
lamps  dimmer  and  farther  apart. 

Meantime,  for  many  minutes  he  had  seen  nothing 
of  Malee.  Not  impossibly  she  had  doubled  on  him ; 
it  was  an  old  trick  of  Indian  runners. 

Stopping  at  last  upon  the  corner  of  two  narrow 
streets,  he  lighted  a  match  and  looked  about.  The 
feeble  point  of  light  served  only  to  make  the  dark- 
ness more  obscure.  He  listened,  but  heard  nothing 
save  the  hoarse,  ceaseless  roar  from  the  heart  of  the 
town. 

Convinced,  however,  that  the  fugitive  had  passed 
that  way,  he  boldly  plunged  down  the  narrowest  and 
darkest  of  the  streets.  He  found  it  not  only  dark 
and  narrow,  but  unpaved  and  abounding  in  noxious 
stenches.  He  kept  on  at  a  steady  pace,  for  un- 
counted minutes.  In  the  comparative  stillness  he 
presently  was  sensible  of  a  noise,  —  a  noise  not  loud, 
but  unusual.  He  stopped  and  listened.  It  sounded 
like  the  heavy  tread  of  men  walking  in  unison.  It 
was,  moreover,  plainly  coming  in  his  direction. 

Fearful  of  being  stopped  and  questioned  by  this 
night-patrol,  he  slipped  into  the  shadow  of  a  tum- 
ble-down old  stable  which  stood  withdrawn  from  the 
street. 

Hardly  was  he  ensconced  here,  when  the  parad- 
ers  arrived,  and  greatly  to  his  consternation  halted 
directly  before  his  hiding-place.  He  slunk  down  a 
blind  passage  beside  the  stable,  and  waited  in  need- 
less trepidation.  The  strangers  were  too  intent 


478  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

upon  their  own  purpose  to  heed  him.  What  was 
their  purpose?  He  could  not  divine.  He  could 
only  follow  their  movements  with  breathless  inter- 
est as,  after  a  muttered  conference,  they  stealthily 
approached  the  stable  door. 

Hereupon,  somebody  inside  evidently  took  alarm, 
for  a  light,  which  had  been  shining  through  certain 
cracks  and  knot-holes  of  the  old  building,  suddenly 
went  out. 

Arrived  at  the  door  the  new-comers  paused  again 
for  a  moment,  and  then  with  one  accord  threw  them- 
selves upon  the  rickety  barrier  and  burst  their  way 
into  the  building. 

Directly,  there  was  a  tumult  of  oaths,  threats, 
and  curses,  interspersed  by  one  or  two  pistol-shots, 
while  high  above  all  resounded  cries  for  help. 

Unheeding  all  dictates  of  prudence,  Zach  answered 
the  appeal.  Reaching  the  stable  door,  he  collided 
with  several  men  escaping  from  the  building. 

Upset  by  the  shock,  he  struggled  to  his  feet,  and 
prompted  by  the  cries  from  within  seized  upon  the 
hindmost  fugitive,  a  sturdy  and  desperate  fellow, 
who,  turning  quickly,  dealt  his  unarmed  captor  a 
blow  with  the  butt  of  a  horse-pistol  which  felled  him 
to  the  ground. 

Incapable,  henceforth,  of  any  clear  and  connected 
perception  of  what  took  place,  the  sufferer  had 
nevertheless  confused  impressions  of  a  crowd  coin- 
ing forth  from  the  stable,  some  with  dark  lanterns, 
some  handcuffed  and  dragged  as  prisoners,  and  all 
disappearing  in  the  darkness  like  a  disorderly  mob. 

Left  thus   unconscious    and   disabled   upon   the 


ZACHABY  PIIIPS.  479 

ground,  the  involuntary  witness  of  the  midnight 
affray  would  doubtless  have  found  it  a  poor  conso- 
lation to  know  that  he  had  taken  part  in  an  histor- 
ical incident  which  was  destined  to  startle  the  civil- 
ized world,  and  make  a  very  telling  paragraph  in 
the  humdrum  annals  of  the  prince  regent's  adminis- 
tration. 

When,  after  an  interval,  he  never  knew  how 
long,  the  witness  awoke  to  a  blurred  and  pain- 
wracked  perception  of  things  about  him,  he  had 
much  ado  to  make  himself  out. 

This  first  half  consciousness  was  followed  by  di- 
vers sleepings  and  wakings,  accompanied  by  visions 
more  or  less  impossible  and  incongruous.  He  was 
dimly  aware  that  his  surroundings,  although  not 
squalid,  were  in  the  last  degree  humble.  Again  he 
was  conscious  of  being  studiously  cared  for;  it  even 
seemed  at  times  that  he  was  caressed  by  a  familiar 
hand;  and  once  he  fancied  that  he  had  seen  Malee's 
face  bending  close  above  him,  her  proud  eyes  soft- 
ened with  anxiety  and  tenderness. 

At  last,  like  the  brushing  away  of  a  cobweb, 
all  this  confusion  and  uncertainty  vanished.  He 
awoke  with  clear  head  and  undimmed  vision.  But 
a  new  bewilderment  awaited  him.  Although  he 
saw  plainly  the  objects  about  him,  he  did  not  recog- 
nize them.  Where  was  he?  and  how  came  he  there? 

Little  by  little  he  went  back  and  knitted  up  the 
raveled  sleave  of  memory.  Vividly  enough  he  re- 
called the  pursuit  of  Malee,  but  that  was  ages  ago. 
Then  came  remembrances  of  the  patrol,  the  stable, 
the  cries  for  help,  the  struggle,  the  blow. 


480  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

Opportunely,  a  strange  woman  entered  at  this 
point,  who  proved  to  be  the  landlady  of  his  humble 
lodgings,  —  a  vulgar  but  not  unkindly  body,  who 
was  only  too  glad  to  talk. 

She  easily  supplemented  his  remembrances  by 
saying  that  he  had  been  brought  there  in  a  senseless 
condition  by  a  foreign-looking  woman  with  the 
strength  of  a  man,  for  she  had  carried  him  with  ease 
in  her  arms ;  that  this  foreign  person,  moreover, 
had  shown  herself  very  close-mouthed  and  none  too 
civil,  for  she  would  condescend  to  make  no  explana- 
tions save  that  her  patient  was  a  person  of  rank, 
and  that  the  greatest  care  and  attention  must  be 
shown  him.  She  furthermore  confessed  that  the 
strange  young  woman  had  shown  great  concern  for 
her  patient,  for  whom,  however,  she  would  not  hear 
of  calling  a  physician,  but  had  dressed  his  wound 
with  some  lotion  of  her  own. 

"Altogether,"  concluded  the  good  woman,  "I 
cawn't  at  all  make  her  out,  an  'ave  no  liking  for 
'er  looks,  and  'ad  made  up  me  mind  to  tel  the  'ole 
story  to  yer  honor  so  soon  as  ever  yer  honor  come 
to  'is  wits." 

"She  is  in  the  house  now?"  asked  the  patient 
eagerly. 

"Never  a  bit!" 

"  When  was  she  here  last? " 

"This  vevy  day;  early  in  the  morning." 

"Did  she  say  anything  about  coming  back?" 

"Not  she.  But  there  's  little  need ;  she  's  sure  to 
be  'ere  to-morrow  at  some  hour  to  suit  'erself." 

"How  long  have  I  been  here?  " 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  481 

"Eight  and  forty  hours,  or  the  matter  of  that." 

"What  time  of  day  is  it?  " 

"Four  o'clock  and  after.  I  know  by  St.  Giles's 
bells,  which  sounded  two  hours  an'  more  ago." 

The  patient  paused  and  considered  a  space,  break- 
ing out  presently  with  an  appearance  of  energy  and 
impatience. 

"Go  at  once,  my  good  woman,  and  order  me  a 
carriage! " 

"  Your  honor  never  thinks  of  going  without  see- 
ing'er?" 

"Yes,  yes,  I  cannot  wait." 

"She  might  murder  me  —  that  one!  " 

"Pooh!  go  fetch  me  pen  and  paper,  and  I  will 
write  her  a  letter." 

"A  letter  to  'er,  an  'ow,  tell  me,  '11  she  ever  get 
the  sense  o't?" 

"Never  fear!  she  can  read  well  enough." 

"An  'eathen  like  'er  read!  God  'elpus!  'tis 
more  than  I  can  do  meself .  I  'm  but  a  poor  schol- 
ard  at  books,  though  I  can  make  me  mark  with  the 
best  o'  'em.  But  think  ye  the  letter  will  satisfy 
'er?" 

"It  must." 

"I  'ope  it  may,  with  all  me  'art,  for  I  'm  free  to 
say  I  'm  scared  o'  the  creature.  But  I  '11  fetch  the 
writin'  things,  since  'tis  your  honor's  bidding,  for 
a  man  come  back  to  'is  senses  is  not  to  be  gainsaid." 
Taking  advantage  of  the  good  woman's  absence 
from  the  room,  Zach  got  up  and  dressed,  feeling 
still  a  little  unsettled  and  giddy. 

"  'Ere  they  are,  such  as  they  be,"  exclaimed  the 


482  ZAUHARY  PIIIPS. 

landlady,  bouncing  in  with  the  writing  materials. 
"  'T  is  none  o'  the  best,  that  pen,  but  ye  may  make 
shift  to  mark  with  it  if  ye  bear  a  thought  to  the 
right,  and  for  the  ink,  I  'ave  added  a  drop  o'  vine- 
gar." 

"  Very  well ;  and  now,  my  good  friend,  while  I 
am  writing  the  letter,  make  haste  and  go  for  the 
carriage ! " 

"That  will  I,  never  fear,  for  fair  spoken  and 
civil  as  ye  be,  I  '11  make  no  secret  to  yer  honor  I 
shall  be  relieved  to  'ave  me  'ouse  well  quit  o'  ye." 

"How  is  that?" 

"The  neighbors  are  making  trouble,  if  ye  must 
know,  sir;  and  to  be  round  wi'  ye,"  fixing  a  suspi- 
cious glance  on  her  wondering  lodger,  "  't  is  thought 
ye  'ad  an  'and  in  it  yerself." 

"A  hand  in  what?" 

"The  great  conspiracy." 

"What  is  that?" 

"So  much  the  better,  if  ye  be  as  innocent  as  ye 
look!" 

"Speak  out,  woman,"  cried  the  lodger  impa- 
tiently, "what  are  you  talking  about?" 

"Wy,  sir,  if  ye  must  'ave  it,  't  was  the  very 
night  ye  were  brought  'ere,  and  't  was  that  gave  it 
the  ugly  look,  —  a  bloody  plot  was  brought  to  light 
to  murder  all  the  government  lords  w'ile  they  sat  at 
dinner.  But  the  truth  leaked  out,  and  the  wretches 
were  caught,  as  they  waited  yonder  in  an  old  sta- 
ble "- 

"  Eh,  stable  —  er  —  wh-where  was  that  ?  " 

"Yonder  in  Cato  Street,  through  the  alloy  and 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  483 

round  two  corners,  not  a  stone's  throw  away.  But 
some  o'  the  rascals  escaped,  though  there  's  strong 
'opes  they  will  be  caught,  and  that  all  will  'ang  for 
it." 

Moved  by  this  strange  intelligence,  and  mindful 
of  the  anxiety  which  his  prolonged  absence  from 
home  must  have  caused,  the  patient  jumped  up  and 
staggered  around  the  room  in  an  agitation  so  ex- 
treme as  to  excite  anew  the  attention  of  his  already 
suspicious  landlady. 

Perceiving  this,  he  presently  sat  down,  and  mus- 
tering his  self-control,  said  with  the  evident  purpose 
of  quieting  the  woman's  very  natural  doubts  as  to 
his  character,  — 

"  Stay,  my  good  woman !  I '  ve  changed  my  mind ! 
Instead  of  going  for  a  cab,  as  I  bade  you,  send  some- 
body to  my  residence  in  Baker  Street,  and  bid  them 
send  a  servant  and  a  carriage  forthwith  to  take  me 
home.  Wait !  I  '11  write  a  word,  that  they  may 
know  the  message  is  from  me!  " 

Scribbling  two  or  three  lines  on  a  visiting-card, 
he  tossed  it  to  the  relieved  woman,  who,  with  confi- 
dence now  in  some  measure  restored,  showed  due 
alacrity  in  obeying  his  orders. 

Within  two  hours  the  carriage  was  at  the  door, 
and  the  patient  was  helped  into  it,  having  first  in- 
trusted to  the  landlady's  care  a  letter  for  Malee  and 
discharged  with  fitting  liberality  the  charges  for 
his  accommodation. 

Arrived  in  Baker  Street,  he  found  that  the  fam- 
ily, in  their  alarm  over  his  mysterious  disappearance, 
had  already  consulted  the  police  and  sent  word  to 


484  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

Grosvenor  Square.  In  answer  to  his  own  eager 
questions,  he  received  full  confirmation  of  the  land- 
lady's strange  tale  of  the  conspiracy. 

The  Cato  Street  plot  was,  indeed,  the  talk  of 
the  town.  Failure  doomed  it  to  the  rank  of  a  nine- 
days'  wonder,  whereas  its  success  might  have  been 
blazoned  in  many  a  heavy  historical  chapter  of 
after-event  prescience  and  philosophy. 

Zach  briefly  explained  to  Mr.  Rush  his  own  in- 
voluntary part  in  the  affair,  which  was  duly  commu- 
nicated to  Lord  Harrowby,  to  be  used,  if  needed,  as 
corroborative  evidence  in  the  trial  of  the  culprits. 

Having  duly  accounted  for  himself  in  Baker 
Street,  Zach  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Grosvenor 
Square.  The  state  of  suspense  in  that  household 
over  his  unexplained  absence  may  be  surmised  from 
the  fact  that  Sylvia  swooned  in  his  arms,  while  the 
shock  of  his  sudden  reappearance  induced  in  Fal- 
coner a  recurrence  of  his  old  symptoms. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  Sylvia  confided  to 
her  lover  that  of  late  her  father  had  not  been  so  well, 
and  the  physician  accordingly  had  ordered  a  change 
of  air. 

"Where  will  he  go?" 

"To  Bath." 

"And  you  will  go  with  him?" 

"Certainly." 

To  the  immense  surprise  of  his  betrothed,  Zach 
drew  a  long,  deep  breath  of  relief. 

Pondering  this  matter  as  he  went  homeward, 
something  prompted  him  to  go  out  of  his  way  to 
stop  at  his  late  humble  lodgings  in  Edgeware  Eoud. 


ZACHARY  PH1PS.  485 

Arriving,  he  asked  the  woman  if  his  letter  had 
been  delivered.  Learning  that  Malee  had  not  yet 
returned,  he  slipped  a  gold  piece  into  the  woman's 
hand,  and  bade  her,  when  next  the  Indian  girl  ap- 
peared, to  have  her  privately  followed  and  report  to 
him  her  whereabouts. 

Deeply  preoccupied  with  his  own  affairs,  Zach 
was  yet  not  wholly  oblivious,  as  he  jolted  homeward 
in  his  cab,  of  a  certain  movement  about  him,  a  stir, 
as  it  were,  in  the  air,  a  mysterious  happening,  as  of 
a  passing  shadow,  which  affected  «the  weal  of  the 
great  populace  swarming  past  and  around  him. 
Seeing  no  act  done  nor  hearing  any  word  spoken 
confirmatory  of  this  vague  impression,  it  gained  no 
lodgment  in  his  mind,  and  failed  to  draw  his  atten- 
tion from  more  absorbing  topics. 

In  the  night,  however,  this  routed  impression 
returned,  and  his  sleep  was  disturbed  by  hoarse 
murmurs  and  distant  cheering  of  the  populace,  and 
by  the  faint  and  solemn  tolling  of  bells. 

Next  morning,  what  with  want  of  sleep  and  the 
over-excitement  and  fatigue  of  the  day  before,  he 
had  perforce  to  keep  his  bed. 

Presenting  himself  for  work  the  succeeding  day, 
he  was  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Rush  appear  in  a  sin- 
gular toilet,  namely,  a  suit  of  black  cloth,  without 
buttons  on  sleeves  or  pockets,  a  long  lawn  cravat 
and  weeper,  chamois  shoes  and  gloves,  crape  hat- 
band, black  sword  and  buckles. 

The  tolling  bells  were  explained:  all  the  world 
was  in  mourning  for  King  George  the  Third. 
That  worst  enemy  of  England  and  best  friend  of 


486  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

America,  but  for  whose  inspired  stupidity  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say  the  United  States  might  be  still  a 
dependency  of  the  British  crown,  was  dead. 

In  the  excitement  attendant  upon  the  royal 
obsequies  and  the  accession  of  a  new  sovereign,  the 
American  minister  and  his  household  were  neces- 
sarily more  or  less  involved.  Thus  some  days,  filled 
mainly  with  ceremonial  detail,  followed,  in  which 
Zach  almost  forgot  the  incident  of  the  Cato  Street 
tragedy.  It  was  sharply  and  unpleasantly  recalled 
to  mind  by  a  summons  to  appear  and  testify  at  the 
trial  of  the  culprits. 

It  was  a  fit  morning  for  such  business.  The  air 
was  raw  and  chill.  The  streets  were  foul  with 
mud.  A  thick  fog  weighed  like  a  leaden  pall  upon 
the  city,  and,  notwithstanding  the  street-lamps  were 
lighted,  men  groped  like  ghosts  through  the  murky 
thoroughfares  and  byways. 

Stumbling  along  in  the  wake  of  a  link-boy,  Zach 
came  at  last  to  the  court-house,  —  the  renowned  Old 
Bailey. 

Gazing  up  for  a  moment  at  its  frowning  facade 
half  lost  in  the  fog,  he  passed  shivering  in  through 
the  black  hole  of  entrance.  Thence,  hemmed  in  by 
a  rough  and  sordid  crowd,  he  was  borne  along  to 
the  court -room. 

The  spacious  hall,  disfigured  by  age  and  hard 
usage,  had  yet  a  grimy  impressiveness.  A  blaze  of 
lights  about  the  bench  drove  the  fog  for  the  time 
being  into  the  corners.  About  the  walls,  oozing 
with  moisture,  Zach  spelled  out  in  the  pale,  half  light 
warning  and  ominous  texts,  — 


ZACUAEY  PUIPS.  487 

"A  false  witness  shall  not  go  nnpunished,  and  he 
that  speaketh  lies  shall  perish." 

"Ye  shall  not  swear  by  my  name  falsely,  neither 
shalt  thou  profane  the  name  of  thy  God." 

"If  a  false  witness  rise  up  against  any  man  to 
testify  against  him  that  which  is  wrong,  then  thou 
shalt  do  unto  him  as  he  had  thought  to  do  unto  his 
brother." 

The  crier  bawled  some  unintelligible  lingo.  Up 
out  of  the  thick  outer  fog  his  Honor  appeared,  in 
the  grim  majesty  of  gown  and  wig.  The  trial  be- 
gan. The  lawyers,  flinging  about  their  black  robes, 
looked  like  enormous  bats.  They  wrangled  with 
each  other ;  they  bullied  the  witnesses,  with  the  ap- 
parent approval  of  the  bench.  His  Honor,  anon 
rising  in  foggy  voluminousness,  charged  the  awe- 
struck jury  with  fatal  clearness  and  significance. 

The  jury  disappeared  in  the  fog,  and  came  back 
in  ten  minutes  with  a  verdict  of  guilty ;  whereupon 
five  of  the  culprits  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged. 

Appalled  by  the  swiftness  and  tragic  result  of  the 
procedure,  Zach  fought  his  way  to  the  outer  air 
through  the  rank  multitude  waiting  to  batten  on 
further  horrors. 

Reaching  home,  he  found  a  messenger  awaiting 
him,  an  ill-conditioned  fellow,  who  emerged  from  a 
dark  corner  of  the  hall,  and  approaching  said  in  a 
mysterious  whisper, — * 

"I  found  her." 

"Eh?" 

"Beant  you  the  gent  was  in  Edgeware  Road?" 

"Yes." 


488  ZACHARY  PHI  PS. 

'^Come  along  o'  me,  then." 

"What  do  you  mean? " 

"The  neger-woman,  — I  found  'er  for  ye.  I 
tracked  'er  'ome,  but  'f  ye  want  to  see  'er,  come 
quick,  for  I  mistrust  she  's  on  the  go !  " 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

"SHE  goes  it  like  a  race'orse,  that  un,  she  does! 
Blest  if  I  'ad  n't  to  run  to  keep  hup  vith  'er,  an' 
she  never  pulls  hup  till  Temple  Bar,  ven  she  stops 
for  a  go  at  the  letter,  an'  I  'ad  a  chance  to  get  me 
vind." 

"She  read  the  letter,  then?" 

"  That  did  she,  hover  an'  hover,  till  she  'ad  it  be 
'art,  you'd  think;  then  folds  it  hup  in  a  rag,  an' 
tucks  it  hinto  'er  bosom." 

"And  then  "- 

"  Then  avay  she  goes  agin  like  mad,  an'  I  close 
on  'er  'eels  be'ind  like  a  fox'ound." 

"And  you  found  where  she  lives?  " 

"  Never  trust  me,  if  I  did  n't !  I  tracked  'er  down 
at  last,  an'  a  rum  'ole  it  is,  I  can  tell  ye." 

"Bad,  was  it?" 

"  Bad  for  a  dog  it  vas,  leave  alone  o'  a  Chrestian, 
not  that  this  'ere  is  rightly  a  Chrestian." 

"And  when  you  got  there  "  — 

"  On  me  vord,  but  I  thought  we  never  vould  get 
anyv'eres,  but  of  a  suddint  she  stops  short  an' 
squats  'er  down  on  the  ground  in  front  o'  a  'ouse." 

"And  you"- 

"I  dodges  down  a  passage  an'  keeps  me  hi  on  'er, 
ven  I  '11  be  'anged  if  she  does  n't  pidl  hout  that  'ere 
letter  an'  at  it  agin." 


490  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"Well?" 

"By  an'  by  she  starts  hup  an'  clutches  a  holt  o' 
'er  frock  an'  stares  round  in  a  vay  she  was  goin'  to 
speak,  ven  along  comes  a  cove  an'  squints  at  'er,  an' 
she  darts  hinto  the  'ouse  like  a  rabbit." 

This  talk  between  Zach  and  the  messenger  was 
interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the  carriage  which  had 
been  sent  for. 

It  took  them  a  half  hour  and  more  to  reach  their 
destination,  —  a  wretched  tenement  house  in  one  of 
the  worst  parts  of  the  town. 

It  was  not  only  a  new  phase  of  London  to  the 
astonished  beholder,  it  was  a  new  phase  of  life.  It 
presented  an  object-lesson  of  destitution,  squalor, 
and  every  form  of  human  abasement,  whicli  he  may 
well  have  remembered  to  the  end  of  his  days. 

With  a  sickened  look  he  climbed  the  rickety  outer 
steps  and  knocked  at  a  battered  door,  which,  stand- 
ing half  open,  revealed  an  interior  foul  with  dirt 
and  reeking  with  stenches. 

A  beery  old  hag  answered  the  summons,  but  view- 
ing the  stranger  with  a  suspicious  eye,  disclaimed 
any  knowledge  of  the  object  of  his  search. 

A  half  -  crown  made  her  more  communicative. 
After  a  pretense  of  reflection,  she  at  last  remem- 
bered a  lodger  answering  the  description  of  Malee, 
whom  she  designated  as  a  stuck-up  hussy,  who  gave 
herself  great  airs  and  would  have  nothing  to  say  to 
anybody;  who,  moreover,  was  gone  for  days  at  a 
time,  the  Lord  knew  where,  and  when  at  home 
walked  the  floor  all  night  in  her  leather  stockings ; 
who  in  fine  kept  no  hours,  had  no  habits,  and  con- 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  491 

sequently  it  was  quite  impossible  to  say  when  or 
where  she  could  be  found. 

Zach,  as  may  be  surmised,  drove  away  in  a  very 
uncomfortable  frame  of  mind.  Clearly,  Malee's 
fine  friends  had  deserted  her,  and  she  must  have 
been  driven  to  desperate  straits  to  hide  herself 
away  in  these  loathsome  slums. 

Musing  in  this  vein,  as  they  traversed  the  crowded 
thoroughfare,  blocked  from  time  to  time  by  the 
press  of  vehicles,  he  was  presently  aroused  by  a  cry 
from  the  boy  on  the  box. 

"There,  there!  Look,  yer  honor! — there  she 
be  for  ye  now!  " 

Zach  gazed  eagerly  from  the  carriage -window. 
There,  indeed,  on  the  sidewalk  a  few  yards  from 
him,  stood  Malee ! 

Her  appearance  added  the  last  feather  to  Zach's 
load  of  remorse.  The  physical  glory  which  had 
once  surrounded  her  like  an  atmosphere,  the  free- 
dom of  carriage,  the  buoyancy  of  movement,  the 
look  of  tireless  vigor,  of  affluent  vitality,  were  gone. 
Gaunt,  listless,  hollow-eyed,  consumed  by  an  inward 
fever,  she  wandered  like  a  lost  spirit  reckless  of  her 
course.  Draped  about  her,  now  soiled  and  draggled, 
were  the  fine  gown  and  shawl  in  which  at  Lord 
Westmoreland's  rout  she  had  encountered  the  fash- 
ion of  London. 

Shocked  beyond  the  power  of  word  or  movement, 
Zach  sat  for  a  moment  like  one  paralyzed.  It  was 
a  momentflost  forever.  The  words  of  the  boy,  re- 
peated in  a  shriller  tone,  caught  the  quick  ear  of 
the  Indian.  Her  eyes  fell  upon  the  carriage  and  its 


492  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

occupant,  and  with  a  suppressed  outcry  she  darted 
away  amid  the  throng,  and  before  Zach  could  reach 
the  sidewalk  through  the  serried  vehicles  she  was 
lost  to  sight. 

Determined  now  to  take  prompt  and  effective 
measures  for  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate  girl,  Zach 
drove  straight  to  police  headquarters,  and  left  a  de- 
scription of  her  person,  with  a  request  to  be  noti- 
fied as  soon  as  she  was  found. 

Having  thus,  as  it  seemed,  done  all  he  could  for 
the  time  being,  he  strove  by  a  strenuous  application 
to  work  and  a  vigorous  attempt  at  forgetfulness  to 
quiet  certain  conscientious  qualms  which  persis- 
tently associated  themselves  with  the  subject. 

What  made  this  more  difficult  was  the  fact 
that  Sylvia  and  her  father  had  already  gone  to 
Bath.  The  shutting  up  of  the  Grosvenor  Square 
house  cut  off,  in  effect,  the  larger  part  of  his  life, 
and  narrowed  him  down  to  his  somewhat  meagre 
personal  resources. 

His  delight  may  therefore  be  readily  conceived 
when,  on  returning  one  afternoon  from  a  gloomy 
drive  in  the  park,  he  found  Sandy  awaiting  him  in 
the  ante-room.  A  ghost  could  not  have  given  him 
a  greater  surprise. 

The  skipper,  who  had  thought  it  necessary,  on 
making  so  grand  a  visit,  to  sacrifice  to  the  proprie- 
ties by  putting  on  a  linen  shirt  and  a  suit  of  black 
broadcloth,  looked  so  comically  ill  at  ease  that  Zach, 
the  greetings  over,  scrupled  not  to  laugh  ^itright. 

"What  are  you  doing  in  that  landlubber  rig?" 
he  cried.  "Come  upstairs,  and  unharness!  " 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  493 

Seated  in  the  privacy  of  Zach's  room,  with  coat 
and  cravat  discarded  and  collar  thrown  back,  the 
skipper  was  himself  again. 

The  two  regarded  each  other  with  undisguised 
interest. 

"And  how  goes  the  world,  shipmate  ?  "  began 
Zach,  drawing  up  his  chair  and  struggling  with  a 
moment's  constraint  in  adjusting  himself  to  the  old 
intimacy. 

"Huh!  "  answered  the  sailor  with  a  little  dispar- 
aging grunt,  delightful  to  the  eager  listener  as  a 
vivid  reminder  of  old  times.  "Go!  it  don't  go;  it 
stands  as  stock  still  as  a  balky  mule,  'cept  for 
grindin'  away  at  yer  flesh  an'  blood!  " 

"You  at  any  rate  need  not  complain,"  continued 
Zach,  recognizing  in  his  companion  certain  comfort- 
able evidences  of  health  and  prosperity. 

"Eh?" 

"You  hold  your  own,  I  say." 

"The  devil!  No,  I  don't;  wall,  't  ain't  much  ef 
I  do.  Fer  looks,  I  dunno,  fer  I  hain't  took  a  squint 
in  a  glass  sence  I  can  remember,  but  I  feel  older  'n 
Methusalem,  'n  I  'm  a-gittin'  as  creaky  in  the  j'ints 
as  an  old  windmill." 

"Too  much  living  alone;  the  way  to  cure  that  is 
to  get  married,"  suggested  Zach,  with  the  positive- 
ness  of  a  recent  convert. 

"Merried!  — I?  Thunder!  th'  ain't  nothin'  in 
petticoats  so  hard  put  to  it  fer  a  pilot  that  she  'd 
take  me  aboard." 

"Pooh!  you  never  tried." 

"Wall,  it's  true  I  did  n't  never  what  ye  may 


494  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

say  sail  straight  down  on  anythin',  but  I  've  tacked 
an' jibed  'bout  a  good  many  small  craft,  and  I  never 
hed  no  signals  run  up  fer  me  yit." 

"Never  fear!  your  turn  's  coming.  One  of  these 
days,  when  you  get  your  stocking  full " — 

"The  Lord  Harry,  Bub !  —  stockin'  ?  there  's  too 
many  holes  in  my  stockin'  ever  to  fill  up." 

"Ho,  ho!  the  old  story.  Just  now  there  seems  to 
be  a  hole  in  your  pipe.  Here,  have  another  charge. 
How  'd  you  come  over? — in  the  'Malviny  '  ?  " 

"What,  thet  little  critter?  I  a'most  forgot  I  ever 
owned  her." 

"Got  a  better  one  now?" 

"Wall,  I  dunno  'bout  thet." 

"A  three-master,  I  '11  bet." 

"Yeah,  I  b'lieve  she  hed  when  I  left  her." 

"Hooray!  and  you  own  the  whole  of  her?  " 

"I  s'pose  I  do,  what  ther  is  on  her." 

"And  grumbling  about  hard  luck  yet,  you  un- 
mitigated old  growler! " 

"  'T  ain't  no  gret  for  luck,  Bub ;  what  with  bad 
runs,  an'  repairs,  she  costs  more  'n  she  comes  to." 

Zach  laughed  and  changed  the  subject. 

"When  'd  you  get  in?" 

"Made  Liverpool  a  week  ago  come  Tuesday,  with 
a  load  o'  wheat.  Left  the  mate  to  onload,  an' 
thought  I'd" - 

"Come  and  hunt  me  up." 

"Thet's  'boutit.'* 

"The  same  old  hearty  as  ever,"  cried  Zach  jump- 
ing up  with  an  old-time  impulse  and  shaking  hands 
over  again.  "I  'm  glad  to  see  you,  —  mighty  glad! 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  495 

We  '11  have  a  good  time.  We  '11  do  whatever  you 
like.  By  and  by,  when  you  get  your  breath,  we  '11 
go  out  and  see  the  town." 

"I  reckon  thet  ain't  no  small  job.  Swear  to 
man,  Bub,  ef  it  didn't  kind  o'  take  my  breath. 
Didn't  seem  to  be  no  eend  to  it,  as  I  come  along 
this  mornin'." 

"A  pretty  big  town." 

"It  must  take  'bout  the  whole  island,"  continued 
Sandy  reflectively.  "Ther  can't  be  enough  left  fer 
more  '11  a  strip  round  the  aidge  to  turn  in." 

Zach  laughed,  and  brought  forth  from  the  chim- 
ney closet  a  brandy  bottle  and  some  glasses. 

"Humph!"  sighed  the  skipper,  drawing  a  long 
breath  of  satisfaction  after  his  dram.  "I  dunno 
whether  it 's  the  rum,  Bub,  or  'cause  I  'm  gittin' 
ye  focused,  but  ye  're  jest  beginnin'  to  look  a  leetle 
grain  as  ye  used  ter." 

"Did  you  find  me  changed?" 

"Lord's  massy!  ther  war  n't  nothin'  't  all  to  go 
by,  fust  off,  but  it 's  a-comin'  back,  now." 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Zach,  with  an 
amused  look. 

"Wall,  for  one  thing,  ye 're  a  good  deal  more 
spindlin'  'n  ye  used  ter  be;  then  yer  gittin'  a  kind 
o'  drawed  look  'bout  the  mouth,  as  ef  ye  was  all  the 
time  a-contrivin'  an'  a-schemin'." 

The  listener  laughed  uneasily. 

"Things  goin'  all  right,  I  hope?  " 

"First  rate." 

"Did  n't  know  but  mebbe  you  was  a  leetle  down 
in  the  mouth  'bout  sunthin'." 


496  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"Oh,  no." 

"No  chance  o'  yer  ever  comin'  back  to  the  States, 
I  s'pose?" 

"Not  very  soon,  I  fear." 

The  skipper  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and 
charged  it  again  in  silence,  giving  the  fruit  of  his 
minute's  reflection  as  he  threw  the  charred  match 
on  the  floor. 

"Wall,  Bub,  this  'ere  's  mebbe  all  right  fer  your 
kind  o'  business,  but  fer  a  place  to  live  in,  for  what 
ye  may  call  a  country, —  why,  hang  it!  't  ain't  a 
country, — it's  nothin'  but  an  island,  with  more 
fokes  to  the  square  inch,  —  wall  I  can't  think  o' 
nothin'  but  flies  on  a  spot  o'  merlasses.  Ye  may 
laugh  as  much  as  ye  like,  but  I  swear,  I  feel  kind 
o'  hoggish  breathin'  all  the  air  I  need,  fer  fear 
I  'm  gittin'  more  'n  my  share." 

This  truly  American  criticism  drew  from  Zach 
a  loud  laugh,  as  he  refilled  his  friend's  glass.  Their 
further  conversation  was,  however,  interrupted  by 
a  call  from  Mr.  Hush  for  his  secretary,  and  the  two 
accordingly  separated  with  an  engagement  to  spend 
the  evening  together. 

During  the  skipper's  visit  of  two  or  three  days 
in  London,  Zach  devoted  much  time  to  his  old  friend, 
and  wound  up  by  promising  to  run  down  to  Liver- 
pool and  give  him  a  send-off  when  his  ship  was 
ready  to  sail. 

Reviewing  the  many  pleasant  incidents  of  the  visit 
on  the  night  of  Sandy's  departure,  Zach  was  struck 
by  a  happy  thought.  He  started  to  his  feet,  and 
walked  about  the  room  with  a  look  of  asritation. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  497 

Why  not  get  the  skipper  to  take  Malee  home  to 
America?  He  would  look  out  for  her  comfort,  and 
contrive  to  have  her  taken  back  to  her  kindred. 
With  his  mind  full  of  the  project,  the  secretary  went 
to  bed. 

Next  day,  however,  a  new  and  more  engrossing 
subject  for  thought  came  to  claim  his  attention. 

As  Mr.  Rush  was  going  over  his  morning's  mail, 
he  read  out  as  an  item  of  passing  interest  that  the 
post  of  United  States  secretary  of  legation  at  St. 
Petersburg  was  vacant. 

Absorbed  in  his  dispatches,  the  unsuspecting  min- 
ister did  not  notice  what  a  sensation  his  announce- 
ment had  made.  Indeed,  he  had  quite  forgotten 
the  matter,  when,  a  few  hours  later,  Zach,  with  a 
flushed  face,  but  a  sufficiently  resolute  tone,  appeared 
before  him,  and  after  a  little  hemming  and  hawing, 
announced  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  vacant 
place. 

As  his  world-wise  superior  showed  no  surprise 
and  made  no  comment,  the  secretary,  with  a  deepen- 
ing flush,  demanded  his  opinion  upon  the  matter. 

"  There  are  only  two  things  against  it  that  I  can 
see,"  answered  the  minister  quietly,  "two  important 
but  not  insuperable  objections ;  that  is  to  say,  youth 
and  inexperience." 

The  secretary  looked  at  once  abashed  and  encour- 
aged. 

"  Would  you  be  willing,  sir,  to  say  so  much  in 
my  behalf?  "  faltered  the  undiscouraged  aspirant. 

"I  will  cheerfully  say  that  and  much  more." 

"Thank  you  very  much;  and  what  do  you  think 


498  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

is  the  best  way  to  go  to  work  to  secure  the  posi- 
tion?" 

"The  most  straightforward  way  possible.  Write 
at  once  to  Mr.  Adams,  applying  for  it,  and  then 
lose  no  time  in  going  over  to  support  your  petition 
in  person." 

"Will  it,  then,  be  necessary  for  me  to  go  to 
America?  " 

"It  will  be  advisable;  with  Mr.  Adams  a  half 
hour's  talk  will  avail  more  than  a  ream  of  correspon- 
dence." 

"But  if  the  President "  - 

"You  will  do  better  to  go  directly  to  the  Secretary 
of  State  in  this  matter." 

"But  that  will  be  leaving  you  short-handed." 

"I  will  manage,  and  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
you  may  set  about  your  preparations  at  once.  It  is 
an  opportunity  not  to  be  neglected.  Your  chances 
of  success  are,  at  least,  fair.  Meantime,  I  will  give 
you  a  letter  to  Mr.  Adams." 

For  some  hours  Zach's  head  was  in  a  whirl.  He 
was  too  excited  to  think  clearly.  Next  morning, 
when  he  had  in  a  measure  recovered  his  self-control, 
he  wrote  two  letters,  one  to  Sylvia,  advising  her  of 
his  proposed  voyage  and  its  object,  the  other  to 
Sandy,  asking  his  date  of  sailing  and  announcing 
himself  and  Malee  as  possible  passengers. 

By  return  of  mail  came  a  note  from  Sylvia,  im- 
ploring him  to  go  at  once  to  Bath.  As  he  was 
about  to  make  the  trip  of  his  own  motion,  he  lost 
no  time  in  accepting  the  invitation. 

To  his    discomfiture,   he    found  Sylvia    greatly 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  499 

stirred  up  over  the  news.  She  was  strongly  against 
the  whole  project.  She  detested  St.  Petersburg, 
without  knowing  anything  about  it.  She  was  con- 
tent to  have  him  stay  in  London  and  remain  a  pri- 
vate secretary.  All  his  powers  of  logic  failed  to 
convince  the  specious  little  malcontent.  The  dis- 
cussion between  them  lasted  the  whole  evening,  and 
she  went  to  bed  unreconciled  and  rebellious. 

Left  alone  with  Falconer,  Zach  renewed  the  sub- 
ject. The  father  proved  more  reasonable  than  the 
daughter.  Indeed,  he  warmly  approved  the  young 
man's  disposition  to  advance  himself.  He  had, 
moreover,  a  word  of  his  own  to  say.  After  gazing 
intently  at  his  companion  for  some  minutes,  he 
broke  out,  — 

"You  are  twenty-three  years  old,  you  say?  " 

"That  was  last  year." 

"Twenty -four,  then,  and  Sylvia  is" 

"Nineteen." 

"Humph!  and  you  may  be  gone  for  months  in 
the  States?" 

"I  shall  make  what  haste  I  can." 

"I  know,  I  know;  but  such  business  moves  slowly. 
Then  things  may  happen  —  obstacles.  It  must  take 
months,  and  I "  —  * 

The  speaker  paused,  and  Zach  looked  at  him  in- 
quiringly. 

"May  go  off  at  any  moment." 

"Pray,  don't  say  so,  sir!  You  are  growing  bet- 
ter every  day." 

"Tut,  tut!  that  talk  is  well  enough  before  her. 
With  you,  I  can  be  frank.  The  truth  is,"  contin- 


500  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

ued  the  invalid,  a  cloud  perceptibly  settling  over  his 
face,  "  1  am  not  growing  better.  I  am  losing  ground. 
Every  attack  leaves  me  weaker,  and  so  I  repeat,  the 
probability  is  I  shall  not  live  to  see  your  return." 

"I  do  not  admit  it  —  I  will  not  recognize  it." 

"That  being  so,"  continued  the  sick  man,  un- 
heeding the  interruption,  "it  behooves  me  to  rec- 
ognize and  provide  for  such  an  emergency.  You 
and  Sylvia  have  been  betrothed  —  how  long?  " 

"Nearly  a  year." 

"Very  good;  now,  I  have  been  thinking,  since 
you  came,  that  considering  the  probable  length  of 
your  absence,  considering  the  precariousness  of  my 
health,  considering  the  further  fact  that  upon  my 
death  Sylvia  will  be  left  without  any  near  relative 
who  might  serve  as  a  natural  guardian  and  adviser, 
that  you  had  better  "  — 

"Better,"  echoed  Zach,  breathless  with  agitation 
and  suspense. 

"Get  married  before  you  go! " 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

IT  is  using  very  mild  language  to  say  that  Zach 
was  dumfounded  by  Falconer's  quiet  suggestion. 
He  spent  the  night  in  a  dizzying  state  of  upheaval, 
during  which  some  strenuous  efforts  at  self-control 
availed  little.  He  had,  perforce,  to  wait  until  cus- 
tom could  stale  his  rapture  and  bring  a  seeming 
phantasm  to  the  focus  of  commonplace  vision. 

When  his  pulses  had  duly  slowed  down,  however, 
he  recognized  the  suggestion  as  worldly  wise.  There 
seemed,  indeed,  but  one  obstacle  in  the  way  of  its 
realization,  and  this,  from  a  mole-hill,  speedily  de- 
veloped into  a  mountain.  Would  Sylvia  consent  ? 

Betimes  next  morning  he  set  himself  to  resolve  the 
doubt.  Falconer  helped  him  to  an  opportunity  by 
going  off  for  his  morning's  drive,  in  which  Sylvia 
usually  accompanied  him. 

Left  with  his  betrothed,  Zach  delayed  not  to 
broach  the  matter. 

"Heigho!"  he  began,  with  a  prodigious  sigh. 
"I  shall  soon  be  off,  now!  " 

"To  America?" 

"Yes." 

"Perhaps  you  may  not  go;  I  pray  every  night 
that  something  may  happen  to  hinder." 

"If  it  were  only  going.  But  I  have  been  think- 
ing what  a  long,  long  time  I  shall  be  away." 


502  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

"How  long?" 

"An  eternity." 

"A  man's  or  woman's  eternity?' 

"Both,  — months,  at  least!  " 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  bear  it !  You  shall  not  go !  How 
I  hate  this  sordid  ambition  which  has  lately  seized 
you!  Who  knows  what  may  happen  to  you  there?  " 

"I  am  thinking  what  may  happen  to  you." 

A  look  of  distress  passed  over  her  face,  and  she 
put  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"Hush!  Don't  speak  of  that!  I  shut  my  eyes 
to  everything  but  the  little  stretch  of  the  way  I 
daily  see  before  me.  I  dare  not  look  beyond!  " 

"That  is  right  for  you,  darling.  You  must  keep 
a  bright  face  for  him.  But  I  must  needs  look  be- 
yond. I  must  think  of  everything  which  may  befall 
you  when  I  am  not  here  to  comfort  and  protect  my 
little  one." 

"Think  of  it  if  you  must,  but  do  not,  I  beg, 
speak  of  it ;  for  if  "  — 

He  interrupted  her  with  a  caress. 

"I  speak  of  it  now  for  a  purpose." 

"What  a  terrible  word!  " 

"  I  have  been  thinking  that,  for  my  sake,  for  your 
sake,  for  everybody's  sake,  before  I  go,  I  ought  — 
we  ought  to  be  married !  " 

"Married!"  she  repeated  breathlessly.     "Why, 
Zach  —    Wh-what  are  you  thinking  of  ?    How  can  I 
—  what  would  —    Papa  would  never  consent.     Oh, 
't  is  impossible !  " 

"Is  it  only  the  thought  of  him  that  deters  you?  " 

"Ye-es  —  I  —  that  is—  But  'tis  so  short  a 
time!" 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  503 

"And  do  you  mind  that?" 

"  No-o,  I  —  but  papa  would  —  oh,  very  decidedly. " 

"We  can,  at  least,  consult  him." 

"It  would  be  of  no  use." 

"Let  us  try,  at  any  rate." 

"I  know  what  he  will  say.  He  has  very  old- 
fashioned  prejudices  in  such  things.  He  would  think 
it  scandalous  to  dispatch  so  important  a  matter 
in  such  haste.  And  if  he  objects,  if  he  shows  any 
hesitation,  I  beg  you,  dearest,  not  to  press  it  upon 
him.  He  would  only  become  more  fixed  in  his 
opinion,  and  in  his  present  state  of  health  "  — 

"Fear  nothing,  my  dear;  I  promise  not  to  urge 
him." 

But  the  anxious  daughter,  fearing  lest  her  lover's 
ardor  might  betray  him  into  saying  something  un- 
timely, took  upon  herself  the  delicate  task  of  break- 
ing the  startling  project  to  the  invalid. 

On  beholding  him,  therefore,  returned  from  his 
drive,  and  once  more  comfortably  established  in  his 
favorite  corner,  she  went  and  sat  on  a  stool  at  his 
feet,  and  taking  one  of  his  hands,  opened  the  con- 
versation miles  and  miles  away  from  her  objective 
point. 

"Papa,  I  think  you  look  better  to-day." 

"So?" 

"Yes,  the  waters  must  be  doing  you  good." 

"Let  us  hope  so." 

"Perhaps  it  is  the  quiet  down  here  that  agrees 
with  you." 

"Perhaps." 

"You  do  not  find  it  too  lonely?  " 


504  ZACHARY  PU1PS. 

"No;  I  always  have  you  and  Mason,  and  Phips, 
when  he  comes." 

"Ye-es —     Oh,  yes,  when  Zach  comes,  of  course, 
it  is  different;  he  brings  so  much  news;  but  I" 
hesitating — "I  am  thinking  how  different  it  will  be 
when  he  is  gone  "  — 

"Gone?" 

"To  America." 

"Oh!" 

"It  will  be  very  soon,  now." 

"Rsally?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do." 

"It  will  be  doleful  for  you,  tied  down  to  a  sleepy 
old  woman  and  a  sick  old  man." 

"Oh,  no,  no!  I  didn't  think  of  that.  I  am 
always  happy  to  be  near  you;  but  —  it  is  so  far 
away  —  he  will  be  gone  so  long,  and  —  and  so  many 
things  may  happen  —  to  him." 

"True." 

"I  —  he  feels  very  badly  about  going." 

"Naturally." 

"  We  have  been  talking  about  it,  and  I  —  he  — 
thinks  —  that  is  —  says  "  — 

She  stopped  a  moment,  took  breath,  and  sum- 
moned her  resolution. 

"Papa  dear,  I  am  making  dreadful  work  of  this; 
I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"Indeed!" 

"Yes,  and  you  must  not  be  shocked  or  astonished, 
or  let  it  affect  you  in  any  way.  It  is  only  one  of 
Zach's  wild  harum-scarum  schemes,  —  which  is  too 
absurd  to  be  thought  of,  —  and  I  should  never  in  the 


ZACHABY  PHIPS.  505 

world  consent  to  it  for  a  moment,  only  I  —  he  is  so 
persistent  and  headstrong  —  I  promised  him  —  just 
to  keep  him  quiet  —  that  I  would  speak  to  you 
about  it,  and"  — 

"Goon,  my  child!" 

"Why,  he"  —  she  interposed  a  deprecating  little 
laugh — "he  insists  that  we  —  he  and  I  —  we  have 
been  betrothed  a  long  time  now,  you  remember  — 
shall"  — 

"Well?" 

"Shall  get  married  before  he  goes!  " 

Clutching  her  father's  hands  tightly  in  her  own, 
she  looked  up,  breathless  and  terrified,  in  his  face, 
as  if  expecting  to  see  him  fall  to  the  floor. 

Instead,  however,  of  betraying  any  emotion,  he 
looked  at  his  agitated  daughter  with  a  quiet  smile, 
saying,  — 

"I  entirely  agree  with  him." 

On  his  return  to  London,  Zach  found  a  note  sum- 
moning him  to  police  headquarters.  He  went  at 
once,  and  was  there  informed  by  the  officer  in  charge 
that  during  his  absence  Malee  had  been  found,  that 
having,  however,  no  orders  to  arrest  her,  they  had 
simply  put  her  under  surveillance,  pending  his  re- 
turn. But  thereupon,  taking  alarm,  she  had  since 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  the  experienced  detective 
who  was  shadowing  her,  and  had  again  disappeared. 

Inciting  the  chagrined  officials  to  renewed  efforts 
by  promise  of  a  liberal  reward,  and  warning  them 
of  the  cunning  and  address  which  the  refugee  had 
inherited  as  a  part  of  her  birthright,  Zach  went 


506  ZACHARY  PHIPS. 

home  so  confident  of  success  that  he  wrote  a  letter 
to  Sandy  informing  him  of  his  approaching  marriage, 
and  confirming  his  former  request  of  a  passage  for 
himself  and  the  hapless  Indian. 

Meantime,  the  Falconers  returned  to  town  and 
set  on  foot  preparations  for  the  wedding.  Although 
it  was  agreed  by  all  that  the  ceremony  should  be  as 
simple  as  possible,  it  was  amazing  how  many  prep- 
arations Mason  and  Sylvia  found  indispensable, 
what  countless  things  they  thought  needful  to  be 
done,  and  what  a  prodigious  bustle  they  contrived 
to  make  over  it.  Zach  looked  on  in  consternation. 
Very  little  attention  was  paid  to  him  or  Falconer 
during  those  hours  of  "post  haste  and  romage,"  in 
the  household.  He  was  puzzled  to  find  of  how  little 
consequence  he  was  in  this  transaction,  which  was 
so  nearly  to  affect  his  life  and  happiness. 

Fortunately,  perhaps,  he  was  kept  busier  than 
usual  in  his  desire  to  leave  everything  ship-shape  at 
the  embassy,  and  so  had  fewer  opportunities  of 
going  to  Grosveuor  Square. 

There,  it  seemed,  he  invariably  found  Sylvia  oc- 
cupied, and  was  perforce  turned  over  to  Falconer  to 
be  entertained.  The  two  humbled  supernumeraries 
had  thus  divers  long  visits  together,  during  which  the 
elder,  profiting  by  his  opportunity,  informed  Zach 
of  all  the  details  of  his  American  affairs,  which  the 
young  man  was  commissioned  to  settle. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  Zach,  on  rising  to  go, 
with  an  air  of  ill-concealed  satisfaction  handed  to 
his  future  father-in-law  the  following  letter  of  intro- 
duction, given  him  by  Mr.  Rush  for  presentation  to 
the  American  Secretary  of  State. 


ZACHARY  PHIPS.  507 

HON.  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

Sir,  —  I  take  pleasure  in  recommending  to  your 
favorable  consideration  the  bearer  of  this  note,  Mr. 
Zachary  Phips,  formerly  of  Boston  in  your  own 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  who  for  the  past 
two  years  has  been  acting  as  my  private  secretary 
in  this  city. 

I  beg  to  say  most  explicitly  of  Mr.  Phips  that  in 
my  opinion  he  is  a  young  man  of  high  character  and 
unusual  talent ;  that  he  is  at  once  bold,  prudent,  and 
cool-headed ;  and  in  certain  exigencies  of  affairs  here 
has  repeatedly  acted  with  admirable  judgment. 

I  would  add,  moreover,  that  he  is  well  equipped 
by  special  study  for  his  work,  that  he  has  had  an  ex- 
perience peculiarly  adapted  to  develop  self-reliance, 
and  that  barring  some  unforeseen  disaster  he  is  sure 
to  attain  a  distinguished  position  in  the  honorable 
profession  which  he  has  adopted. 

I  am,  sir,  with  renewed  assurances  of  respect  and 
esteem, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

KICHARD  RUSH. 

Meanwhile  Time,  "rolling  his  ceaseless  course," 
brought  on  the  momentous  day. 

Amidst  all  the  hurry  and  preoccupation  of  the 
final  hours,  Zach  bethought  him  with  dismay  that 
nothing  had  been  heard  of  Malee.  The  reflection 
caused  him  extreme  and  evident  anxiety.  Moved 
by  a  vague  suspicion  of  he  knew  not  what,  he  or- 
dered detectives  to  be  placed  on  guard  about  the 
house  in  Grosvenor  Square. 


508  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

On  the  morning  of  the  wedding-day,  at  the  last 
minute,  Sandy  arrived.  He  announced  his  ship  as 
ready  to  sail,  and  waiting  only  for  her  passengers. 
In  addition  to  the  black  broadcloth  suit,  he  had 
now  donned  a  pair  of  white  gloves,  —  he  looked 
supremely  wretched. 

The  ceremony  was  to  take  place  at  high  noon  in 
the  old  church  of  St.  Martin's.  On  the  part  of  the 
groom,  besides  the  unhappy  skipper,  there  were 
present  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kush,  Sir  Benjamin  West, 
and  a  sprinkling  of  young  diplomatists,  secretaries 
and  attaches  of  the  different  foreign  embassies.  On 
the  part  of  the  bride  there  was  a  small  party,  com- 
posed of  the  distant  relatives  and  intimate  friends 
of  the  family. 

A  slight  disturbance  in  the  gallery  interrupted 
for  a  moment  the  ceremony,  as  the  groom  was  about 
pronouncing  his  solemn  vow, —  a  noise  like  the  fall- 
ing of  a  bench  and  the  rushing  of  muffled  feet. 
The  incident  caused  a  momentary  agitation  among 
the  few  curiosity -seekers  whom  the  ceremony  had 
attracted  upstairs,  but  it  was  over  directly,  and 
nothing  more  was  thought  of  it. 

Certainly  if  the  bride  heard  she  had  not  heeded  it, 
as  on  the  arm  of  her  new-made  husband  she  came 
beaming  down  the  aisle  in  a  flood  of  sunshine  which, 
falling  through  the  southern  windows,  filled  all  the 
nave  with  amber  light.  As  for  the  groom,  in  the 
solemn  joy  of  the  moment  he  would  not  have  heeded 
an  earthquake. 

The  reception  which  followed  was  unduly  large. 
It  had  been  a  whim  of  Falconer's  that  nobody  should 


ZACHAEY  PHIPS.  509 

be  omitted,  and  accordingly  a  gay  and  fashionable 
mob  filled  the  house  for  several  hours. 

The  host,  however,  had  overestimated  his  own 
strength.  Wearying  soon  of  the  bustle  and  excite- 
ment, he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  in  the  midst  of  the 
festivities.  Thus  more  responsibility  of  entertain- 
ment fell  upon  the  wedded  pair. 

Not  until  the  short  London  day  was  quite  spent 
did  the  last  guest  depart. 

The  new-made  man  and  wife  were  left  alone. 
Bidding  the  butler  admit  nobody,  on  whatsoever 
pretext,  the  weary  happy  twain  shut  themselves  up 
in  the  library,  and  there  in  the  cosy  twilight,  before 
the  flickering  embers,  sat  in  speechless  content. 

And  there  in  that  long-dreamt  of,  long-remem- 
bered hour,  if  so  be  it  can  ever  come  to  incarnate 
spirit,  the  spell  of  unutterable  joy  and  peace  fell 
upon  them. 

Neither  profaned  the  sacred  hush  with  a  spoken 
word,  but  mingling  with  Zach's  transports  came 
remembrances  of  all  the  long,  hard,  weary  way  lead- 
ing up  to  this  blissful  goal,  remembrances  of  that 
humble  home  in  Salutation  Alley  —  of  Burr  and  his 
great  conspiracy  —  of  the  sweet  days,  the  studious 
solitary  days  at  Basswood  —  of  the  fiery  ordeal  of 
the  war  —  of  the  forest  life  at  Suwanee,  and  all 
that  came  after. 

Envy  itself  could  not  have  grudged  him  the  hard- 
earned  satisfaction  of  the  retrospect,  as  he  followed 
the  toiling  wayfarer  and  noted  the  pluck  and  con- 
stancy which  had  won  him  the  race. 

Was  then  the  retrospect  all  unclouded !     Did  no 


510  ZACHAEY  PHIPS. 

shadow  of  remorse  anywhere  darken  the  path  and 
linger  to  dim  the  supreme  joy  of  the  present  mo- 
ment? 

A  low  tap  at  the  door  interrupted  these  musings. 
The  dreamers  were  aroused  as  from  an  enchanted 
sleep.  A  second  and  third  time  the  knock  was 
heard,  when  Zach,  with  a  scowl,  arose  and  went  to 
the  door. 

After  a  long  whispered  conference  with  somebody 
in  the  hall,  he  came  back  to  his  astonished  bride. 

"Dearest,"  he  said  gravely,  "there  is  an  impor- 
tant matter  which  claims  my  instant  attention.  I 
must  leave  you  for  a  little  while,  —  an  hour,  —  per- 
haps more.  I  will  come  back  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Mr.  Kush  has  sent  for  you?  " 

"No." 

"It  is  not  business,  then?  " 

"No;  it  is  something  more  imperative  than  busi- 
ness; it  is  duty." 

"But  why  can  it  not  wait?  " 

"Believe  me,  darling,  nothing  but  absolute  neces- 
sity would  take  me  from  you  for  a  moment.  I  must 
go,  —  indeed,  I  must !  I  promise  not  to  be  long." 

Her  withholding  hands  barred  his  every  step  to 
the  door ;  her  clinging  lips  would  never  say  farewell. 
It  was  with  gentle  force  that  he  at  last  freed  him- 
self and  rushed  into  the  open  air. 

A  hackney-coach  was  in  waiting,  an  inspector  of 
police  sat  within.  Slamming  the  door  upon  his  pas- 
sengers, the  coachman  drove  rapidly  away. 

Turning  from  the  broad,  well-lighted  thorough- 


ZACIIARY  PUIPS.  511 

fares,  they  plunged  into  the  poorer  quarter  of  the 
town,  —  an  interminable  distance,  with  countless 
turns  and  windings.  A  raw  wind  blew  in  through 
the  open  coach  windows,  reeking  with  foulest  odors. 

Bumping  and  bouncing  over  hillocks  of  offal  and 
through  puddles  of  filthy  water,  they  threaded  the 
mipaved  byways  given  over  to  poverty,  pestilence, 
and  crime. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  full  hour,  prolonged  by  sus- 
pense to  many  times  its  normal  length,  they  drew  up 
at  last  before  a  squat  building  in  a  dark,  narrow 
street  close  upon  the  river. 

At  a  summons  from  the  inspector,  the  door 
slowly  opened,  showing  an  ill  -  lighted  passage. 
Stumbling  along  in  the  wake  of  his  guide,  Zach  was 
ushered  into  a  small  room,  where  a  burly  official 
sat  half  asleep  behind  a  desk. 

In  answer  to  a  murmured  explanation  from  the 
inspector,  this  person  nodded  and  rang  a  bell. 

Soon  there  appeared  behind  a  grating  at  the  back 
of  the  room  a  grimy-looking  man  with  a  lantern. 
Obeying  a  gesture  from  the  official  behind  the  desk, 
the  new-comer  unlocked  a  door  in  the  grating,  and 
Zach  and  his  guide  were  admitted.  Following  down 
another  long  passage,  they  were  ushered  into  a  large 
vaulted  room,  or  hall,  dimly  lighted  by  a  lantern 
swung  from  the  roof. 

The  icy  dampness  of  the  place  struck  a  chill  to 
the  very  marrow  of  those  entering.  Through  the 
unglazed  grated  windows  the  river  outside  could  be 
heard  lapping  and  plashing  against  its  slimy  burners. 
The  swaying  lantern  of  their  guide  cast  long  jets  of 


512  ZACHABY  PHIPS. 

light  up  and  down  the  dark  stone  walls,  showing 
them  dripping  with  moisture. 

Disposed  in  a  straggling  line  down  the  middle  of 
the  room  were  a  score  of  benches,  some  of  which 
seemed  occupied  by  sleeping  figures. 

Sunk  deep  in  slumber  they  must  have  been,  — 
those  figures,  —  for  not  one  of    them  so  much  as 
stirred  upon  the  entrance  of  their  visitors. 

Before  one  of  these  benches  the  grim  guide 
stopped,  and,  unceremoniously  pulling  a  coarse  drap- 
ery from  the  sleeper,  motioned  Zach  to  approach. 

White  and  rigid,  he  obeyed. 

His  suspense  is  at  an  end.  The  search  at  last  is 
over.  The  quarry  has  been  hunted  down. 

Disfigured  no  longer  by  the  tawdry  rags  of  civil- 
ization, she  wears  again  her  native  dress :  the  tunic, 
wrought  with  quills  of  porcupine,  the  embroidered 
leggins,  the  beaded  moccasins,  and  the  eagle  plume 
crowning  her  black  locks. 

"The  river?  "  hoarsely  murmured  the  dismayed 
beholder. 

Shaking  his  head,  the  official  glumly  pointed  to 
the  hilt  of  a  hunting  knife  gleaming  amidst  the  dis- 
ordered drapery. 

But  what  is  there  besides,  —  that  other  glittering 
object  clutched  so  tightly  in  the  icy  hand? 

Bending  low  over  the  pulseless  bosom,  Zach  stoops 
to  see,  and  recognizes  a  small  hand-mirror ! 


